Letting Go
by Oldest Man
Summary: Season 3ish. With 2.0 in his head, Chuck's having problems like his dad.He and Casey are partners and a strange thing happens and suddenly - he's not just Chuck anymore.How do you deal with a jealous and aware Intersect?  Chara
1. In the Beginning

Letting GoChapter 1 – History

Just a brief history lesson in the first few paragraphs and then it's off to the races in APR style.

* * *

><p>Burbank, CA<p>

She was leaving with Shaw and he couldn't do anything to stop her. Chuck figured that after the train station and her attitude and behavior after his 'return' that their 'relationship' was something he'd only imagined.

She told Shaw her name. After three years Chuck knew zilch about her but after a few rounds between the sheets, Shaw knew her name – her _real_ name, Samantha, Sam for short.

"Quit mooning over her like a lost puppy, Bartowski. We're heading to DC and then on to bigger and better things, Chuck. We'll be given carte blanc on new team members, targets and amenities – oh, Chuck, the amenities."

"Colonel, you're getting drool on your tie. That's so not cool for an officer to behave in public like you are. Now, eat your oatmeal and let's get out of here. You need to oversee the shutdown of the Castle and I need to – what do I need to do again, Casey?"

They were sitting in Denney's so Casey couldn't give him the head-slap he deserved so he just growled. Bartowski had been forgetting things lately and it was beginning to annoy him.

"Write it down, moron. You need to explain your sudden absence from Burbank using the cover story Beckman's people put together for you. Memorize the copy at Castle and then destroy it. Let's go. I'm done."

Chuck walked out into the bright sunlit Burbank morning and cringed and fumbled for his sunglasses. He'd become very light-sensitive lately and it bothered him.

Casey pushed Chuck toward his car and Chuck stumbled for a moment and then walked to the car and got in. Casey noted the stumble but said nothing. He'd add it to his report and hope it wasn't anything significant.

Casey got into the car and started it and then held his hand out, palm up, to Chuck. "Give me your phone. I have a new and improved issue."

Reluctantly he handed over his phone and watched as Casey slipped out the sim card, put it into a small device about the size of a paperback book and pushed a button. He replaced the corrupted sim card and then threw Chuck's phone out the window.

"Casey! Are you nuts?" He started to get out of the car when Casey grabbed his upper arm and squeezed. "Hold your water, Chuck."

Casey took out another phone, light gray in color and with a full screen as well as folding keyboard and removed the sim card and inserted it into the device. A few seconds later he removed the sim card, replaced it into the new phone, and handed it to Chuck.

"First of all, no need to 'go secure'. It's always on secure. Second, in deference to your incredible immaturity, you'll find apps to waste your time with as well as everything that was on your old phone _except_photographs. Where we're going, you don't want the opposition to know what friends and family look like if you're captured or lose the phone."

"Damn it, Casey, there were pictures of…"

"I know. She's gone. She made her choice and it wasn't you. Live with it. Get over it. Get mad, cry, have a hissy fit, but do it on your own time. You're an agent, Chuck. No place in the job description for love, marriage, family, or permanent relationships. Welcome to your New Normal, Bartowski."

* * *

><p>Their first mission was simple: go to Vancouver, BC and locate Quan Ma, a deserter from the Peoples Liberation Army's Special Rocket Artillery, and bring him in. He deserted, not defected, so it was anticipated that he might 'object'. Deadly force was not authorized but he was to be brought in at all costs.<p>

"Special Rocket Artillery? What's that, Casey?" The intersect drew a blank and it was frustrating how often that seemed to happen lately.

"ICMBs, Chuck, with nuke warheads. Our target was in charge of warehousing so he will provide an inventory and location of every one of their nukes."

Vancouver, BC  
>Stakeout<p>

Chuck stunk. He was wearing tattered clothes, a baseball cap, shoes that neither matched nor fit, and he stunk. He occasionally drank water from a bottle of cheap Vodka that was in a paper bag. He looked like the saddest drunk in Vancouver. He was certain that he smelled like the worst. Casey must have looked long and hard to find the filthiest bum to buy clothes from.

"Here he comes, Chuck, right on schedule. I just love creatures of habit. Remember, stall him until I can get there. We'll snatch him and have him back in the States before supper." Chuck loved the new ear buds. They were so small and almost unnoticeable and they worked all the time.

Chuck got up from his spot beside a brownstone staircase and wandered into the alley that Ma always used to get from his apartment to the restaurant he cooked at. He killed two birds with one stone. He relieved his full bladder on the wall and when Ma walked by, he turned and pissed on his leg. Quan Ma's reaction was expected.

Chuck's was not. He ducked below the spin kick aimed at his head and swept Quan Ma's feet from under him. He was knocked unconscious by the impact of his head on the alley paving.

Casey hopped out a van he'd been sitting in at the end of the alley, secured him with zip ties and together they threw him into the back and took off for the airport where a plane was waiting to fly them back to Seattle.

"Roll down your window, partner. You stink. I hope they have a shower and a change of clothes for you before we get on the plane."

"Next time, you're the drunk. If he hadn't shown up on time, I'd have pissed my pants. Thank God he was obsessive about time."

"That was an interesting move in the alley. That definitely held him up until I could get there." He wondered how much was Intersect 2.0 and how much was his young partner.

Quan Ma began to yell in Mandarin and kick the side of the van and become a pain in the butt. Chuck flashed, gasped at the pain, and then turned and told Ma to 'shut up or I'll cut off your future', all in idiomatic Mandarin.

Thankfully, there was a shower in the private hangar and a change of clothes for Chuck. He felt human again and hoped he smelled better. He must have because Casey didn't sniff the air or make snarky comments.

Quan Ma was sleeping soundly. Chuck had tired quickly of his ranting and raving and tranked him with a large dosage guaranteed to keep him quiet until they handed him over to other agents in Seattle.

Casey's report made note of Chuck's unorthodox but successful take down of the subject, his conversation in some Chinese dialect and his growing impatience with almost everything.

* * *

><p>NSA HQ<br>Ft Meade, MD

Chuck rarely sparred with any of the other agents, preferring to work out on the bags but sometimes, not often but enough that he'd developed a reputation as a poor winner, some butt head would always end up challenging him to spar. He blew off most of them and ignored their comments but one big idiot just kept pushing and pushing until he'd had enough.

"Okay, Hollister, let me get my gear and you can brag to your buddies how you finally got Bartowski to spar. Congratulations."

It turned out that Hollister had been assigned to work with a young female agent and had plans for her that required that he demonstrate his abilities. Chuck just smiled and shook his head when the young agent in question sat down to watch.

'I'll let him take me down a couple of times before I end it. No sense getting in the way of true love.'

He put on his gear, stepped to the center of the mats and touched gloves with Hollister and then had one of his recurring 'moments of disorientation'. Hollister took advantage of it and drove his fist into Chuck's midsection.

Casey told him what happened next. He didn't even remember.

Chuck dropped into a crouch, holding his stomach and then 'falling' to one knee and Hollister stepped back and waved to his honey and then came in for the kill but his blow never landed. Chuck leaped into the air and nailed him in the jaw with a straight kick, ending the fight and ruining Hollister's plan for getting his sweet thing between the sheets.

His broken jaw would require almost as much time to heal as the wrist he'd broken when he fell.

Beckman had read the report and called Casey and told him to 'get that maniac under control' and to take Chuck to Medical for a physical. This was the fourth agent Bartowski had beaten and put into medical reserve in the past 5 weeks. It had to stop. Granted, he never offered or sought out sparring partners and she'd heard Casey's comments about how Hollister was constantly badgering Bartowski to spar. But something had to be done before he accidentally killed someone.

* * *

><p>Chuck bitched the whole time he was being poked, prodded, scanned and drained of almost all his blood but Casey told him to 'man up, Bartowski' and he did.<p>

The doctor took one look at Bartowski's CT scan and told him to 'wait right here. I need a second opinion' but Beckman called with another forest fire that needed to be put out and the doctor finally sent the report and his recommendation to the General a few days later.

* * *

><p>Sana'a, Republic of Yemen<br>2am

The daughter of an influential newspaper publisher (who contributed heavily to the administration's election campaign) had gotten involved covering demonstrations against the government. She was a reporter but that didn't make any difference. She was arrested, tried and sentenced to death as an 'American CIA Agent' who had fomented revolution against the government.

Beckman's orders were straight forward: 'Go in, get her out and get her home'. Simple. A piece of cake. Especially when you were sitting on your ass in your office in Ft Meade.

The problem was that she was being held in a military prison that was located _under_the barracks of the prison guards. The entrance to the prison cells was located at one end of the barracks. Needless to say, there had never been a successful escape from Naru'laja Military Prison.

"You're sure that this stuff will knock them all out, right, Casey? I seem to remember – "

"Yes, for the 10th time, yes, it will knock them out almost instantaneously. Just walk down the aisle and hold each aerosol canister at arm's length away from your body and they'll wake up minus a prisoner."

There were no walls surrounding the prison, just a 10 ft high razor wire fence with coils of concertina wire along the base of the fence on both sides. Their intel on the prison hadn't mentioned that little fact.

Casey looked at his watch and cursed. "Any bright ideas on how you're going to get over the fence?"

"Maybe the main gate? We could breach it with the truck, y'know, batter on through and then – "

"And then wake up the whole damned base? Think again. And fast. We're running out of time."

"We need a door…"

"Doh! Tell me something – oh, yeah, two doors – one to cover the first set of coils and the other to cover the inside set. Let's check out that run-down garage. No one will be there at this time of night. We can load them in the back of the pickup and be in and out in time to make our rendezvous with the extraction team. Good thinking, moron."

The ramp idea worked 'as advertised' and Casey stood guard in a ditch beside their 'bridge' while Chuck ran from shadow to shadow and made it into the barracks. He slipped inside and surprised one guard who was on his way to relieve someone. The spray worked exactly as promised. All 20 some guards were asleep, deeper than before, and he walked carefully down into the prison proper.

It was simply a large cavern that had been carved out of the rock by a long-gone river in ancient times. The prisoners were kept in chain link kennels and as he checked out each 'kennel' for his target, he sprayed the sleeping prisoners.

He finally found her among about 10 other women. She looked pretty roughed-up but at least she was still alive. He dropped his backpack and removed bolt cutters and cut the padlock that held the chain-link door closed and walked in, spraying the sleeping women and stepping over sleepers and dragged his target out.

She started to struggle so he just sprayed her face and threw her over his shoulder and left the prison. The barracks were quiet and he walked down the aisle between the sleeping guards and was almost to the door when it was jerked open by a big man who started yelling something in Arabic.

He spotted Chuck about the same time Chuck was lost in a flash as the Intersect downloaded the language.

The big soldier started fumbling with his sidearm that was secured in a leather holster and Chuck kicked him in the nuts and then in the head and ran out of the barracks into a spotlight from the one manned guard tower.

He almost screamed out in pain as the night vision goggles flared with intense white light. Casey fired a burst at the guard tower to get their attention and Chuck sprinted across the parade ground and up and over the ramp.

"Let's go, Chuck. The training cadre will be out in force any time now." Casey climbed up out of the ditch and into the truck. Chuck threw his burden into the truck bed and climbed in beside her.

* * *

><p>Riyadh, Saudi Arabia<br>American Embassy  
>Secure Room<p>

The Porter Pilatus C-6 easily landed on the flat sand along the sea and was off again without really stopping. The flight across Yemeni airspace was problematical but solved by simply ignoring the demands of the Civil Air Control to identify themselves. They were in Saudi airspace and then on the ground where they were met by a military helicopter and delivered to the embassy.

Beckman was ecstatic and effusive in her praise. The White House had announced that a crack team of Navy Seals had stormed the base and released the American reporter but everyone 'important' knew it was really the NSA's team that had gone in and retrieved the prisoner. A nice boost in funding had been promised so she was really happy.

"Great job! No, an outstanding job! Take a week off and then report to the embassy in Rome for your next assignment." She disconnected and Chuck muttered something obscene under his breath.

"What's the matter, Chuck? We've got a whole week off at government expense. I'm heading out for parts unknown and I'll see you at the Embassy in a week."

"Casey, what am I going to do with a week off? I don't know anyone and the job doesn't allow a visit home."

"Go to Rome, tour Italy, find a nice girl and spend some time just being 'Chuck'. Relax. Unwind. Get laid and get drunk. See ya in a week. Stay out of trouble, moron!"

* * *

><p>NSA HQ<br>FT Meade, MD

"So, doctor, you saw him. Does he appear uncoordinated, unable to speak coherently, any of the things you say this CT scan indicates?"

"Not now, but it's coming. We know his father suffered from dementia and physical 'disabilities'. I'm worried that young Bartowski is following in his father's footsteps. He's the only one who has survived this long out of all our test subjects."

"Concerns noted. He's useful and we'll use him until he isn't anymore and then we'll handle the problem when it presents itself."

* * *

><p>AN: Another chapter in a few days. I have some things on he burner in another FF world.


	2. Getting Excedrin Headache 651

Thanks for the reviews and alerts.

* * *

><p>Letting Go by Oldest Man<p>

Chapter two

Chuck decided to skip Rome and go to Venice. He'd always been fascinated by its history, culture and those cool canals with those singing gondoliers he'd seen once in a movie.

He was on a train heading north from Rome when his cell vibrated and he saw it was his sister.

'_Why is she calling? She knows I'm working in Europe and my job doesn't allow personal phone calls.'_

"Ellie, you know I'm working and can't really chat. Is something wrong?"

"What, I can't call and wish my brother a happy 30th birthday? Who do you work for, Donald Trump?"

"I work for the government. Well, honestly, I'd forgotten all about the date. Been spending my time in the bowels of the embassy in Rome trying to ferret out a virus."

"Rome? Oh, Chuck, take lots of pictures. Where have you been? What have you seen? I'm so envious!"

"I've seen the bowels of the embassy, El, not much more than that and the street to my hotel. I'm heading to Spain in a week or so. The virus is spreading faster than I can build firewalls. Frustrating."

They talked for another 10 minutes until Chuck's train passed through a tunnel and the connection was lost. It was just as well. It was hard lying to his sister.

His train was pulling into the train station when his cell buzzed again. He was tempted to ignore it, to turn it off, but one does not ignore a General, at least not twice.

"Bartowski, in public."

"Where are you, Mr. Bartowski?"

"Venice train station. Doing the tourist thing."

"Go to the airport. We need you and Colonel Casey. I'll expect you by tomorrow."

There was a double-click sound in the background that had bugged him about his new phone. He supposed it had to do with the encryption but decided that the next time he was at NSA Headquarters he'd ask a commo tech about it.

* * *

><p>NSA HQ<p>

Diane Beckman hung up her phone and leaned back in her chair. "He's in Venice but will be here tomorrow. Are you certain that this new download 'patch' will stave off further deterioration?"

"I believe so. He should have another 12-18 months respite before he shows significant and noticeable mental problems. It's been theorized that the intersect is always providing data on a subconscious level and it simply overwhelms the subject's mind resulting in dementia and loss of motor coordination. This is an 'on/off switch' he can use to select when he'll employ the intersect."

"Make it work. Dismissed."

Chuck was met at the airport by two NSA security agents and 'escorted' to the visitors' quarters and then to General Beckman's office for a briefing.

"Good morning, Agent Bartowski. Colonel Casey has been held up in Rome but will be joining us shortly. In the meantime, we want to discuss another subject: your mental stability."

She held up a hand, stemming the tide of ire and words that were almost past his lips.

"It's not apparent yet and we want it to stay that way for a long time, but the intersect comes with a price. Your father knew that and yet he kept experimenting and, well, you know how well that turned out. We would spare you the same fate. Here's what we have in mind…"

* * *

><p>NSA Research &amp; Development Labs<p>

"Are you ready, Agent Bartowski? This will be over in a few minutes. Remember the symbols we showed you? We'll test access when you've had time to recover."

The technician fitted a helmet over Chuck's head, depressed contacts until they touched the scalp and lowered the visor that was actually a video display unit of the highest quality. Pixel resolution was off the charts and this assured the test subject only a brief period of disorientation unlike other downloads where pain, bleeding and unconsciousness were de rigueur.

It wasn't necessary for the staff to don protective eyewear since the images were projected inside the molecules that made up the visor screen. They circled around him, taking readings, watching telemetry feeds and waiting.

Outside, a sudden thunderstorm hit the area with severe winds and numerous lightning strikes. One of those strikes hit the special generators that powered the bank of Cray computers that held the programs and data for the Project.

Power surged and light fixtures blew out and alarms sounded. The programs controlling the four Cray computers queued a systems dump of the contents of the storage media – into the program being run.

The recipient of the download was unaware of what was happening around him. The devices that held his eyelids open continued to restrain while the images transmitted from the video display unit sped up until they appeared to be nothing more than swirling displays of color.

"What the – " Doctors and techs in the room were electrocuted as monitors and computers exploded and arcs of electricity swept throughout the laboratory.

The amount of data pouring into Chuck's brain was frightening. There was simply not enough room to accommodate data and programs without overwriting personality and autonomic functions. Finding that only half the storage capacity of the host was being utilized, pathways were routed through never-before used nervous tissue so that both hemispheres were involved. Areas not useful were overwritten with data and programs and algorithms.

Beckman watched from her office on a monitor until the power died. For a small person, she could move quickly and she was out of her office and into the rain as her aide brought her car around and drove her to the R&D building.

Finally, all power in the lab died but there were flames and toxic smoke pouring out of the computer annex. The Cray units' cooling systems had finally failed. Automatic fire systems began spewing Halon from ceiling fixtures.

The man on the gurney struggled to reach the clamps on the straps holding him in place. He dislocated a shoulder to drag an arm free of the restraints and release the straps.

He ripped off the smoking helmet and rolled off the gurney and began crawling towards the exit.

Every movement was planned and executed with precision. He got to his knees and then to his feet and slammed his shoulder into the wall to pop it back into place.

He shuffled out into the corridor and took the first breath since the Halon began discharging, robbing the room of oxygen. Overwhelmed, he collapsed.

* * *

><p>EMTs worked on the man using battle lanterns for illumination. He was unconscious but his vitals were all 'in the green'. Except for an occasional twitch of his fingers or a grimace on his face, he appeared to be asleep.<p>

Beckman watched from the corridor and just shook her head. They had almost lost the host. Her aide whispered that the 'Cray Computers are toast, general' and her mind switched from concern for the host and the project to administrative issues.

"Keep him overnight and if there are no medical issues, have him in my office at 1300 hours."

* * *

><p>While Chuck Bartowski 'slept', his mind was more active than any human being's had ever been. His 'autonomic responses' were enhanced, his memories pulled out, examined and replaced in a more orderly sequence to improve recall. Interesting events and emotional moments were reviewed, cataloged and presented to the host in dream sequences to evaluate the appropriate response, both physical and mental.<p>

A nurse hurried in after hearing insane laughter from Bartowski's room but left a few minutes later shaking her head. He'd been dreaming and laughing out loud.

By 7am the nurse decided to just sit and finish her reports. She was tired of running in to the room in response to sobbing, laughter, one-sided arguments and other outbursts only to find Bartowski asleep.

_This guy has got to be single. No woman could handle being awakened every time he dreamed._

Satisfied that it had corrupted the 'on/off switch' and could take and maintain control and that the host was safe, the thing in his brain shut down to conserve energy. The damage to the dislocated shoulder had only taken 47.22 minutes to repair.

* * *

><p>Beckman's office<p>

The senior technician laid the helmet and visor on the General's desk. "Take a look at the contacts on the inside, General. They melted from extreme heat generated by electrical current. Your man should not be alive. We can't figure out how he survived when the others didn't."

"He did and that's all that's important. Keep this to yourself. Once the lab is cleaned up, we'll be installing new Crays and I'll need your team to help. Dismissed."

_He is the luckiest SOB I've ever met. How did he survive?_

The doctors had examined him and given him a clean bill of heath. The General had ruled out any further scans of his brain. She didn't want to have to listen to the medical staff telling her things she didn't want to hear. The intersect was needed in the field regardless of the cost.

* * *

><p>1300 hours<p>

Chuck sat in front of Beckman's desk and for the first time wasn't afraid of her. That brought a smile to his face and the woman frowned.

She noticed that he looked the part of an agent for a change, wearing a tailored suit and crisp white shirt and a regimental striped tie. And dress shoes, not those ridiculous high-tops he usually wore. Obviously the suit had been a gift from Agent Walker. It displayed a sense of style sadly lacking in young Bartowski who preferred t-shirts, jeans and those ridiculous high tops.

"Why are you smiling, Agent Bartowski? There is very little around here to smile about."

"Well, it's a beautiful day and I must say, ma'am, you're looking particularly lovely. I feel great and I'm ready to get back to work. Will Casey be joining us?"

Beckman blushed and fussed with her hair, surprised but flattered. It had been a long time since anyone had dared compliment her so brazenly but she chose to overlook it.

"No, you'll be joining him in Copenhagen. Agents Shaw and Walker have located a Ring executive but require assistance. The target is co-located with what they suspect is a major computer and data storage facility. Your strike against the facility will draw off his guards and allow them to complete their mission."

"Piece of cake, General. The colonel and I will slide in, blow it up and then make a show of leaving so that the other agents can complete their mission. When do I leave?"

That smile on his face was beginning to irritate her so she sarcastically asked him just how he proposed to do that. She hadn't even told him where the facility was or that Copenhagen was just a convenient staging area.

"Well, the Faroe Islands can be reached by overnight Ferry this time of year although I would suggest we buy a fishing boat and simply blend in with the fishing fleet and make port and then conduct the assault. Afterwards, we join up and sail south to the Shetland Islands. Like I said, General, a piece of cake."

"And just how do you know that? It's only been recently reported!"

"It's in the intersect, General. And it's not recent. An agent reported a possible data node two years ago and none have ever been reported in mainland Denmark. The Ring apparently considers Denmark unimportant."

"Okay, Agent Bartowski, do it your way. Casey will meet you at the airport and then the four of you can go buy a fishing boat. Dismissed."

He stood and started to walk out but suddenly stopped. He was momentarily uncertain about why but then an idea popped into his head.

"General, have you eaten lunch yet? I have a craving for Chinese food and I hate to eat alone. Join me. My treat. You can use the time to rip me a new one if it makes the invitation any more acceptable."

Beckman was speechless and even more shocked when Bartowski walked around behind her desk, took her by the hand and led her to the door. She started to 'rip him a new one' but stopped. Why not?

* * *

><p>General Beckman used the lunch to observe Bartowski closely. There was no trembling in his hands, he seemed happy and confident and she'd been surprised when he ordered for the both of them in Chinese.<p>

"You surprise me, Bartowski. I didn't know you spoke Chinese?"

"I really don't but I practically lived in Chinese restaurants growing up and in college. Cantonese is easy if you just listen. I can handle restaurant menus but doubt I could handle a complex conversation. And please, drop 'Bartowski' for the hour. I really prefer 'Chuck'."

* * *

><p>Copenhagen<br>2 days later

He spotted Casey standing outside the Customs area. Chuck had been given a diplomatic passport and carried a diplomatic pouch with, among other 'goodies', half a million Euros inside and slid through Customs with ease.

Chuck had spent most of the flight to London trying to figure out what the hell was going on in his head. Lunch with Beckman had been pleasant and she had progressively lost more and more of her aura of wickedness as the meal progressed. They discussed the mission in circumspect terms and then football. She was a rabid Ravens fan and never missed a game on TV.

_I can't believe I called her 'Diane' and she didn't stab me in the eye with a chopstick. Talk about being out of control._

Still, all things considered, it had been a serious 'suck up' of epic proportions and he found himself smiling at how easy it had been to get along with her. Under that haughty and threatening exterior was just a woman who was afraid to make a mistake in a traditionally man's role.

* * *

><p>Hotel Tivoli<br>Copenhagen

The doorman opened the cab door and said 'Welcome to the Hotel Tivoli' and then escorted them to the door where another gnome held it open. Casey grinned when he saw the look on Chuck's face and then the now almost permanent grin on his face.

"I had the same reaction. It's quite impressive." The lobby was both new and old but impressive. Chuck's viewpoint narrowed and he elbowed Casey.

"There's the happy couple. When do we meet with them 'accidentally'?" The 'happy' couple was in the midst of a knock-down-drag-out argument just inside the bar but where almost anyone could see them.

'_Bad trade craft since they're supposed to be on their honeymoon. Shaw looks unhappy and Walker looks angry and – who the hell cares.'_

Casey heard the disdain in his partner's voice and suppressed a smile. "We run into them at dinner here in the Tivoli. Make nice with them, moron, since it's technically their mission. We're just here to provide a distraction."

"Casey, unless you have something planned, I'm going to head up to my room and crash. Headache. Still hear the engines whistling in my ears. Why the hell do you NSA people insist on sitting in the very back of the airplane between the engines?" His tickets came with pre-assigned seating – all in the back of the plane.

"Go ahead. I'll check out the bar and then find something to entertain myself. Your headache is jetlag plus not eating. Set your alarm for 6am and we'll head down to the docks and see what's available _after_ you eat breakfast."

Sarah Walker saw John Casey staring at her and then he followed the retreating figure of Chuck Bartowski towards the elevators. She wanted to talk to him, to try and explain but with Daniel hanging on her, she'd lost the opportunity.

* * *

><p>6:30am<p>

They met in the lobby and went in to breakfast. Both were wearing casual clothes and Chuck was lugging around a backpack with the money in it. Casey wasn't sure if Chuck knew what he was doing but he'd play along and pick up any pieces if it fell apart.

"What's the plan? And why a boat? Why not just rent a van, drive out to the site and blow it up giving the home team the distraction they need?"

"You can't drive to the Faroe Islands, Casey." He went on to outline the plan in bare bones fashion and Casey leaned back and laughed. It was simple and yet sophisticated. The extraction phase was the only thing he wasn't comfortable with.

"We go in with the fleet and we go out again on the morning tide. Piece of cake, Colonel." It wasn't really, since they had to wait for the other team to extract and rendezvous and neither of them liked not having specifics about the other team's plans.

* * *

><p>Fishing docks<p>

Casey played second fiddle since he had no idea what was being said. They'd asked questions and been directed to a far pier where the boats were off-loading the morning's catch for market.

Chuck flinched in anticipation but smiled when the download of conversational Danish flooded his mind without pain.

_'The patch works! No more eye fluttering and paralysis. Cool!'_

They'd homed in on a trawler that hadn't had a very good catch and Chuck talked with the captain who was also the owner. He was in his 70s and ready to retire so selling the trawler to a bunch of fish-huggers seemed like a golden opportunity and he jumped at the first offer made by the man who spoke Danish with a German accent.

"So, you will still need a crew, no?" He had 4 hands that would need a berth.

"No. The Maritime Institute will provide a crew and since we'll simply be tracking the depleted schools, they'll be technicians, not fishermen. We'd like to take possession tomorrow morning for refit. Any objections?"

There were but a nice stack of Euros made them disappear. After all, the man had things to do in his retirement and seeing the world was one of them. After a typical Germanic handshake, he signed the paperwork and wished them well.

Walking back up the dock to where Casey was looking at Zodiac inflatables for their trawler, Chuck thought over the ease with which he'd assimilated Danish.

'_No pain and no blinking eyes or momentary paralsysis. That was so cool!'_

A voice whispered, '_thank__you__' _and he whirled to see if anyone was following him.

'_That __was __weird!__' _There was no response but then he didn't expect one. '_Dad __used __to __have __entire __conversations __with __himself__…__maybe __the __patch __isn__'__t __working __as __advertised?__'_

He wasn't paying attention to where he was going and stumbled over a plank in the dock that was warped upwards but easily regained his footing. Casey had seen the stumble and felt his stomach clench.

'_I guess Beckman's wunderkinden never got around to testing their damned 'patch'.'_

He added a notation to his mental report-in-progress about the reappearance of balance problems.

"Hey, partner, do we have any money left? I think I'd like to add a Zodiac to the tub. We have no idea how seaworthy it is. Think of it as a mobile life preserver."

"Good idea. Especially since we still don't have an emergency egress plan from Samantha or Shaw."

Casey ignored Chuck's continued use of Walker's real name, giving the kid a break. Walker only said 'Sam' to Shaw but it figured that 'Samantha' was a logical choice, especially since the moron wouldn't say 'Sam' if his tongue was being cut out.


	3. Walking Dead

Taking a break for a few days. Enjoy the peace and quiet.  
>OM<p>

* * *

><p>Chapter3<p>

Tivoli Gardens  
>3pm<p>

The two partners sat in an open-air beer garden drinking beer and eating a late lunch. The weather was going to turn nasty soon and that was fine with them. The reduced visibility would make the rendezvous at sea with their 'supplier' less noticeable by other trawlers or satellites.

"We'll meet the other team tonight at dinner. Chuck, I know it's going to be – difficult for you but what's done is done. The mission – "

"Jesus, Casey, give it a rest, will ya? It would never have worked out no matter what she said before I took the 2.0 – never! I'm okay with it and I wish you'd quit pushing my face in it every damned time you get the chance. That was then; this is now. _You__'__re_ the one who keeps bringing it up."

Casey _had_ kept getting in his face about it because he believed that Chuck's anger was one contributing factor to his impatience and lack of focus on missions. Maybe it was time to ease up. After this mission he'd reevaluate his position – but only after the mission.

"Because you were losing focus and feeling sorry for yourself and it was affecting the missions. Things have been looking up and we've got a good track record so maybe you _have_ seen the light. We'll see after this mission. She left, Bartowski. She left you behind and moved on. You should do the same."

Chuck started to lash back at this but stopped. He was right.

_Images of other women he'd known flashed through his mind almost unbidden. There were other women who could love him. He just had to find the right one._

He grinned and Casey smirked. "You're right, Colonel. She left me behind and now she has to live with it. I guess I was feeling a little sorry for myself."

He saw the look on Casey's face and amended his comment. "Okay, a LOT sorry for myself but this new patch thing's cleared my head, John. I'm good to go. Let's have another beer and then head back. I could use a nap."

He felt a flush of what? Satisfaction? Whatever it was, it flooded his mind with a sense of completion and of accomplishment, as if something had finally worked out for a change.

While he slept, the thing in his head reviewed memories and emotions the host was suppressing. If the thing could feel anger, it would have when it reviewed the events leading up to Agent Walker leaving with Daniel Shaw.

_Walker left the host after making a commitment to be with him, to stay with him, forsaking all others. She **is**a liar. _

Programs are simple things. They like simple, straightforward solutions. Walker was a problem. Walker's data was flawed, corrupt, and contained variables that did not compute.

Walker was to be excluded for data submission or retention in long-term memory storage. The entity known to the host as 'Sarah Walker' was examined and all 'personal' data was deleted from file. Short-term memory areas were excluded from the defrag process due to needs of the mission. The data from the original download was left intact.

A partitioning firewall protected the host from further Sarah/Samantha corruption. Problem solved.

It went into 'wait state' to conserve the host's energy.

* * *

><p>The Grand Tivoli Restaurant<br>Hotel Tivoli  
>Copenhagen, Denmark<p>

Casey had lectured Chuck on behavior the entire elevator ride to the lobby. He stressed professionalism and he shouldn't 'pound the crap' out of Shaw no matter what the butt hole said.

Sarah had also lectured her partner but her lecture was more of a plea for cooperation and patience. "I know you and Chuck have history but be the professional agent and don't stoop to his level, Daniel, no matter what he says. Please?" She had taken extra care with her makeup and wore a dress that displayed ample cleavage without being too obvious.

When Chuck saw her with her arm possessively through Shaw's at the reservations desk he felt a moment of 'displacement' and the next thing he knew, he was sitting at their table perusing the menu. Sarah refused to meet his eyes while Shaw was shooting daggers at him.

'_What __the __hell __is __their __problem?__'_ There it was again, that feeling of satisfaction, of accomplishment. Strange.

He looked over at Casey who just smirked but then asked Chuck to translate some menu items for him. He leaned over and whispered, "Chuck, I think Daniel hates you," but he said it with a smile in his voice – the closest thing to a smile that Casey would permit.

Chuck ordered for the two of them while Daniel just pointed to something on the menu and said 'We'll have this for two'.

"So, Colonel Casey, you've been briefed as to your supporting role and here's how we're going to do it. You and Bartowski – "

"Excuse me, Daniel, but we already have everything in place. The only thing missing is your extraction plan. We'll leave on the morning tide on Saturday and arrive late Monday. Casey and I – "

Shaw's eyes narrowed and he put down his wine and started in with 'I'm senior here, Bartowski, and it's my show – '. Chuck looked at Casey with a questioning look and he nodded. The butt hole was asking for it.

Chuck took out his cell, looked at his watch and did the math and pressed a speed dial and waited. "Just a minute, Daniel. This will be settled in just a minute." He held up one finger at Shaw and listened as the phone rang at the other end.

Shaw sputtered something vile and even Casey was surprised by the lack of civility and the total absence of professionalism. Sarah wished she could crawl under the table and slip out unseen.

"Diane! It's Chuck. I have someone who needs to speak with you if you have a minute. No kidding? The Steelers? Well, sure, if I get done here in time." He pushed the phone across the table to Shaw. "Be nice, Daniel."

"Hello, who is this?" Those were the only words he said. He paled and disconnected the call. "Where shall we meet and at what time, Bartowski?" He made Chuck's last name sound like something filthy.

They finished dinner, although neither Sarah nor Shaw ate very much of the baked sheep brains with wild rice that Daniel had ordered without bother to know what it was.

* * *

><p>Chuck was the first one out of the restaurant. He wanted to check out the trawler one last time. Walker had hurried out after him thinking he'd taken the elevator. She didn't see the doorman hail a cab for him.<p>

Casey and Shaw shared an elevator and neither said a word until just before Shaw got off on his floor.

"Casey, this is going to blow up in our faces and your boy's going to get us killed. Think about it. The thing in his head is breaking down and soon he won't be able to function in the field. If this mission fails, it's on your head."

"Shaw, go keep Walker occupied and out of the way. You look like you could use a little consoling and we both know she's really, really good at it."

Sarah walked through the lobby and into the bar. The last thing she wanted to do was return to their room and listen to Shaw complain about every little thing. She especially didn't want to explain her reaction to Chuck's quiet condemnation.

"_So, Bartowski, how's the head these days?"_

"_My head and the rest of me are just fine, Daniel. How's the search for Eve's killers coming along? Any leads?"_

"_I've reconciled myself with her death. I have another obsession – Sarah and I are getting married in the Spring!"_

"_Well, congratulations! I can't think of any two people who deserve each other more, can you, Colonel Casey?"_

When she heard those quiet words of 'congratulations' she'd felt ashamed and she dropped Daniel's hand like he was a leper and stepped away from him.

Eight months ago she'd all but promised Chuck that she'd leave the Agency to be with him and now she was with someone else, and mulling over Daniel's stammered proposal. She hadn't said 'yes'.

She hadn't said 'no', either.

* * *

><p>Harbor<br>0430 hours

Casey took the helm and Chuck cast off the lines and the trawler eased out into the channel. The weather was nasty with winds coming from the northwest and bringing angry seas and a cold wind-blown drizzle.

Perfect.

Shaw and Sarah were below decks lying together in one of the bunks under blankets trying to keep warm. The temperature was in the low 40s but was expected to drop lower before the mission ended.

It was going to be a long 36 hours until the rendezvous.

Both Casey and Chuck took turns standing watch at the helm. Chuck tried to stay in the wheelhouse as much as possible since Shaw seemed to think that keeping warm involved lots of sex. The crew quarters were open and there was no privacy but that didn't seem to stop them.

Chuck had been trying to sleep but was awakened by moans and sounds he recognized. Opening his eyes he found himself staring directly into Sarah's blue ones across the small passageway between the tiers of bunks. She seemed indifferent to the rutting man above her. It was too much. He sat up, pulled on his heavy weather gear and went up on deck and then up the ladder to the wheelhouse.

Casey took one look at him and stifled whatever smart remark was on his lips. Instead he asked him to take the wheel while he went below to the small galley and made coffee and brought them both up some soup.

"Hot chow, Chuck, in weather like this is essential to survival." He hesitated before continuing. "Look, stay up here. I'll bring up your bedding and we can take turns crashing in the skipper's bunk. I'll check the engines and then be back with something hot."

He stuck his head into the crew quarters and saw the blankets moving and figured out just what it was that drove Chuck topside. Disgusted, he checked on the engines and then made coffee and soup. '_Those __two __can __fend __for __themselves.__'_

Casey handed Chuck a steaming mug of soup and then poured them both coffee and set the pot on the deep-welled heating pad.

The thing in his head came online and took stock of the situation and the condition of the host. Hormone levels were out of balance and heart rate was elevated as was breathing. Taking over for a few seconds, it used the host's eyes to determine if there were any immediate threats. It knew about rain but it had never before seen it. Two seconds turned to five and then ten and then thirty and then -

"Chuck, better drink it before it gets cold. I'll take the empty soup mugs back down and bring up the bedding. We're 200km from the rendezvous point and right on schedule."

Chuck shook his head, wondering again at the loss of time.

_'How much 'lost time' this time? How long before I become just like my Dad? Months? Years?' _

Casey went into the crew sleeping quarters again and tore the bedding from Chuck's bunk. As he turned to leave, Walker leaned up on one elbow, uncaring that the blankets had slipped, and asked if that was coffee she smelled.

"No. Not in this weather. Maybe tomorrow." He didn't even bother to look at her. She was no longer of any concern to him. She'd abandoned the 'mission' and gone off with Shaw and that was unforgivable in Casey's eyes.

Sarah was trying to reconnect with Casey in hopes of getting to Chuck through him. When he'd opened up his eyes and his gaze had caught hers, she'd never felt such shame before.

* * *

><p>Rendezvous<br>0930 hours

Walker and Shaw came up on deck in response to the ship's horn that blasted three times in the cold air. It was cloudy with a misty rain that soaked her face and hair in moments. The seas were still running before the wind to four feet. They stumbled into the warm wheelhouse and Shaw immediately demanded an update.

Walker noted the hot plate with its pot of fresh coffee and glared at her old partner's back. _'They had coffee all the damned time. Probably hot food, too. Damn Casey!'_

"You want an update? We're at the rendezvous point. You two have twelve hours to get your gear assembled and be ready to go over the side when we hit port. It'll be dark when we do. You still haven't briefed us on your proposed alternate extraction plan if you get into trouble."

"Where's Chuck, Casey?" Walker had scanned the wheelhouse but couldn't see into the captain's cabin. Maybe he was asleep.

"He's up on the bow trying to spot our supply vessel. We're at the exact GPS coordinates but in this weather and sea… He's going to fire a star cluster or two in case they're just out of sight."

_Host core temperature is 97F. Initiating warm-up drills. Dilating dermal vessels. Hypothermia possible. Assuming control of the… _

Chuck shivered in his leaky bright red survival suit and raised his arm over his head and stopped. The thing in his head was enthralled with the angry sea, the whitecaps and the wind-driven spray and reveled in the sensations. It reluctantly released the host to fire a final star cluster.

* * *

><p>USS Proteus<br>Special Missions Submarine

The captain ordered periscope depth and then spun the thin carbon fiber shaft containing a fiber optic camera around for a quick visual scan of the surface and then ordered 'Down scope'. He turned to the flat screen TV and watched the replay. There was the trawler that they were ordered to meet, right on time and right where it was supposed to be.

"Battle surface. Prepare to transfer passenger and equipment."

The trawler's horn blew 3-sets of two quick blasts and then changed course. The sub had surfaced and Casey was steering them so that they could come close along side and begin the transfer.

* * *

><p>Trawler<p>

Casey maneuvered the 70' trawler with skill learned in his early teens back when he'd been someone else and fishing was the only way of life open to him. Some skills, like driving a car, were never forgotten.

He looked over at the stubby sail of the sub as it wallowed in the 4-foot seas. The Proteus-class was new and was designed primarily for intelligence gathering and operations support such as landing and retrieving SEAL teams or providing supplies to teams or agents in-country.

"What the hell?" Both CIA agents looked up from their coffee and followed Casey's eyes.

"This wasn't in the plan we were briefed on, Colonel! What the hell is going on here?" Shaw was upset and Sarah put her hand on his forearm to get his attention. She'd wheedled coffee for them and didn't want to break the tenuous bond between the two agents and the Colonel.

"It _isn__'__t_ part of the plan. We're supposed to pick up weapons cases and explosives not another damned agent. This must be one of Beckman's changes. She can never keep her hands off our missions."

Chuck easily unclipped the duffel bags and large suitcase-like containers and set them on the deck but when he saw the submarine erect a sling arm, he knew that some_one_ not some_thing_ was being ferried over.

_How the hell do I know about sling arms and breeches buoys?_

Chuck pulled on his end of the line and soon he had his arms full of a squirming woman who was laughing at his antics.

"Permission to come aboard, Captain?" She smiled and her brown eyes were alight with mirth. There was something familiar about her…

_Evelyn Shaw, age 35, CIA agent reported killed 2004 in Paris. Agent seconded to NSA after staged death at hands of Trainee Sarah Walker Red Test. Agent on special assignment. See DLN# 04-2171-15. Address all inquiries to Beckman, D., Colonel, US Army, Deputy Director, National Security Agency._

The flash came unbidden and as a total surprise. He laughed at agent waiting impatiently for him to release her from his protective embrace and finally unhooked her.

'_Shaw's going to have a lot of 'splainin' to do. Oh, Samaaaaaantha, your ass is in so much trouble'._

"Permission granted, Agent Evelyn Shaw. Your husband is in the wheelhouse. Feel free to join him. I'm Bartowski and agents Walker and Casey are with him."


	4. It's NOT the Vulcan Mind Meld

See important notes at end of chapter 4

* * *

><p>Letting Go<p>

Chapter 4

The mirth died and her mouth firmed into a straight line whether from Chuck's recognition of her or –

"So, Daniel's the CIA asshole who's running this show? I might have known. My apologies to you, Mr. uh what was your name again?"

"Just call me Chuck, Agent Shaw. Casey and I are running this particular leg of the operation until we make landfall and then Shaw and his partner run their op while Casey and I do ours. Once back on board, OpCon is ours again. Shitty, but doable. Look, I need to break this down so the sub can submerge and be on its way, so move it to the wheelhouse and let me do my thing."

"Ooh, pushy _and_ commanding. I like that in a man. Don't be long, Chuck. I don't like to be kept waiting." The mirth was back in her eyes and her smile warmed him and he just shook his head. _Spy __babes __must __all __be __selected __based __on__ '__horny __quotients__'__._

He heard a voice in his head, way in the back, whisper like an afterthought, _No,__not __all __of __them._ He turned to see if Evelyn Shaw had heard his thoughtless remark. He swore he only thought it.

* * *

><p>Daniel Shaw was focused on the dark haired woman making her way across the deck and up the ladder to the wheelhouse deck. Casey was watching out of the corner of his eye and saw something he never expected to see in Daniel Shaw's face – fear.<p>

Sarah was also watching her partner's face and also saw the fear and wondered what was going on. She couldn't quite make out the woman's features in the misty rain that even the wipers on the wheelhouse windscreen couldn't totally clear off. The woman slid the wheelhouse door to the side and slipped in, wet from the rain, and slid the door closed behind her.

"Hello, Daniel. Long time, no see. What's the matter, Danny? Cat got your tongue?"

His mouth opened and closed several times without a sound coming forth to greet his wife, thought dead these past 5 years.

A 9mm Beretta appeared in her right hand and she fired, hitting Daniel Shaw, newly selected representative to the Council of Elders, the ruling body of the Ring, squarely in the forehead. He was clinically dead before he hit the wheelhouse deck.

"Cheaper than a divorce and so much more satisfying!" The new widow showed not one single shred of remorse but she did look down at Sarah with something akin to pity.

"Daniel!" Sarah knelt beside her dead partner and cradled his head in her lap. She looked up at Evelyn Shaw with questions and anger in her eyes.

"Agent Walker, you were his ticket on to the Council of Elders. The things you know, the people you know of, the secrets inside that pretty blonde head of yours, would prove a boon to their intelligence section. You, my dear, were walking into a trap."

Sarah was trying not to cry. Part of her had fallen for Daniel, just not enough to even consider marrying him but still, to watch his wife murder him in cold blood…

"We only have your word that he was a traitor, Agent Shaw. What proof do you have…" Eve cut her off.

"Colonel Casey, please make contact with General Beckman. She will provide the proof. Agent Walker's loyalties are somewhat…suspect, I'm afraid. It's standard procedure to have an agent returned to central control for evaluation. You'll fly to Washington once we get to London."

Sarah paled. She knew what 'evaluation' meant: interrogation using the strongest means available. Agents who returned to the service after an evaluation if they were still emotionally or physically able were almost always dumped and forgotten in backwater locales like Vanuatu or Outer Mongolia.

"I suggest securing her somewhere she won't be able to make any mischief if she is disloyal and considering changing sides. Walker, look at my husband and look carefully. That's the fate of traitors to our country."

* * *

><p>Chuck had broken down the sling arm on the trawler and hauled the duffel bags below deck using a hatch in the deck. The steps were steep and icy. It was treacherous but he got all the duffels and the packing cases stowed away. He'd take an inventory later.<p>

He climbed back on deck, secured the hatch and saw that the rain was beginning to freeze on all the metal surfaces.

_'We'll need to rig safety lines if we have to do any work on deck. One more thing we didn't plan for – freezing rain.'_

* * *

><p>Chuck made his way below to the crew bunkroom and stripped off his foul weather gear that leaked like a sieve and changed into dry clothing and carried the gear with him and climbed up to the wheelhouse.<p>

He slid open the companionway door and stepped into a verbal firefight between Casey, Walker and Eve Shaw. It took him a full second to realize that Daniel was dead and that Eve had a pistol in her hand.

Not knowing exactly what was going on, he easily disarmed a distracted Eve and then pushed her against the bulkhead. No one threatened his – team.

"Why is Daniel Shaw dead and what is your authorization to be here on this trawler fucking up our mission? Three seconds to answer or you'll join your late hubby on the deck."

No one said a word and Chuck, who had a hatred of firearms, checked that the safety was off and pointed it at Eve's chest.

"One." Her eyes narrowed and the entire world seemed to shrink down until it only included the two of them. The rest of the world was black and without sound or motion.

"Two." He changed his point of aim to a spot midway between her dark hazel eyes. He saw the tip of her tongue dart out and wet her lips and then she relaxed and smiled. He didn't buy it for a heartbeat and stepped towards her, his aim unwavering.

"Thr – " Casey saw the skin of Chuck's finger begin to whiten as he put pressure of the trigger and he knew he had less than a heartbeat to intervene but it was Nature that saved Eve Shaw's life, not John Casey.

A rogue wave struck the trawler broadside and it rolled on its beam a full thirty degrees to port throwing Chuck and Eve against the metal bulkhead while Casey and Walker hung on to anything they could.

He never knew how or why he did it. Maybe it was instinct. Chuck dropped the 9mm and grabbed Eve Shaw and twisted so that he hit the bulkhead window with his back instead of the much shorter agent striking it face first. On the recovering roll, their legs became entangled with Daniel's body and they fell to the metal deck but Chuck had his hand on the back of her head, cushioning the blow.

There was less than a hair's width between their lips and her eyes were dancing with mirth. "Agent Bartowski, are you going to shoot me or screw me?"

"Either way, you're fucked." He turned beet red and wondered where the hell the snark was coming from.

Casey felt the vibration from the engines slow and then stop. In this weather, loss of headway was a ticket to disaster and if another rogue wave hit them, they would need engine power to survive.

"I'm going below to check on the engines. Walker, you and Agent Shaw better get into your survival suits." Chuck handed Sarah the pistol with a look that said 'I trust you – don't let me down' and went below to retrieve their gear.

* * *

><p>Chuck opened up the various cases and quickly took inventory and removed three 9mm pistols and magazines and then the tranquilizer pistol he'd 'special ordered'. He liked having options. He liked being consistently underestimated. It gave him an edge. He put the small one-shot pistol in his boot top.<p>

There was also a sat-phone provided by the NSA for secure communications as well as a schedule for access times in their zone of operation. Casey could use it to securely contact Beckman and get a sitrep on the missions.

* * *

><p>Twenty minutes later the engines turned over and they got underway again. Casey put on his bright red suit and then called Beckman. First things first. Survival trumped protocols.<p>

Casey went into the Pilot's bunkroom and made the call to Beckman. He reported on the events since the re-supply and listened intently, his face getting almost purple with anger. He did not like being played.

With Chuck at the wheel, the two female agents stood in opposite corners, each lost in their own thoughts.

Walker was reevaluating her situation and seriously considering retiring and taking religious vows. Her life was empty now but maybe faith would fill the void.

She shook off her mood and concentrated on her current situation and the appearance of the 'lost' Shaw and the death of the one she'd been playing to get inside the Ring Council and determine the status of the Ring intersect program and sabotage it if possible.

It had been a terrible choice for her to make but the alternative was totally unacceptable. Now, her entire world was upside down and Beckman would definitely pull her from the team and reassign her to less covert duties.

"Chuck, the General wants a word with you inside in private. I'll look after things, Chuck." He hardly ever used Chuck's first name and it was a warning flag that he ignored. It didn't matter.

'_Beckman's probably figured out that the patch doesn't exactly work as advertised and wants me back for more 'consultations' with her neurologists.'_

* * *

><p>Casey watched as Chuck walked into the Pilot's bunkroom and pulled the hatch shut. He wasn't certain but he thought he heard the hatch dogged down.<p>

"Walker, the General briefed me on your mission. Your operation is canceled and you're back on Team Intersect. Agent Shaw will be taking her late husband's place on the team."

He hesitated uncharacteristically and Sarah would swear he was getting 'emotional' and for Casey that was a once in a lifetime event. He continued after gathering his thoughts. She wondered what he might leave out.

"Evelyn Shaw knows about the thing in Bartowski's head and she knows it's deteriorating and – and that's why she's here - well other than to eliminate Shaw and stop his mission - to monitor his behavior and performance."

"Agent Walker, everything that occurred after Daniel's death was a sham designed to monitor Agent Bartowski's reactions to carefully staged events." There was a certain smugness in her tone that really pissed Sarah off.

Sarah grabbed the 9mm that lay on the chart table and pointed it at Shaw. She was so angry that her hand was shaking.

"He could have killed you! He would have, too. You don't know to what lengths he would go to protect his team."

"The firing pin was plastic and broke after firing that one bullet. The weapon is just metal and live ammo. It's a paperweight for all intents and purposes. If he'd pulled the trigger, well, let's just say it would have been a very awkward situation all around."

"Until he bashed your brains in with it." Casey was livid and trying to control his temper. This whole damned operation was nothing more than a test of the Intersect patch. Yes, the mission was real but any team could have handled it. Beckman had put two agents' lives at risk to test the efficacy of the new download, nothing more.

"Was Daniel going to turn me over to the Ring like you said?"

"Yes. General Beckman felt that any benefit derived from any intel would be negated by the death or worse of a fine agent. That's why she set up this operation, hoping he'd show his hand somehow before it was too late. When Colonel Casey reported that you were engaged, she knew that Daniel was going to go through with it. I was pulled from my assignment and boarded the sub to transfer to the trawler and eliminate him and to evaluate the Intersect Host and - ."

"Casey, you were watching me? Reporting on me to Beckman?" She couldn't trust Casey after this. She had no one she could rely on, not even Chuck. Not after all this.

"No! I just mentioned it in casual conversation as I filled her in on the moron's behavior. She seemed quite interested in his reaction to your 'news'."

"You lied to her. I didn't say 'yes'. I was playing him for time. Too many things didn't add up and too many missions went bad in Burbank once he showed up. That's when Beckman changed my assignment from handler to Shaw's 'love interest', to find out where the problem was."

"Well, there's a new problem now. I don't think our young friend is going to handle the changes well. Evelyn, you might get a chance to evaluate the intersect both in high stress and operational environments. Beckman's explaining some things to him. I figure he'll turtle up on us and just do his thing."

"Turtle up?" Shaw didn't understand the term.

"Withdraw into his shell and come out only when it's an operational necessity. He's not like us. He still feels."

* * *

><p>In the Pilot's bunkroom, Chuck listened as General Beckman recounted the events leading up to his current assignment with a growing sense of despair. He was supposed to be a fucking genius but he really didn't understand shit about the spy world. He wished he didn't know now what he hadn't known before. Ignorance would be better than knowledge regardless of - .<p>

"Agent Bartowski, do you understand the situation? I know it's difficult to accept what Agent Walker had to do…"

He shot the phone with the 9mm and then turned himself off. It was simple, really. Just – don't – think anymore.

The thing in his head seized control and if a program could panic, this one was definitely running around in circles.

_Blurred vision. Heart rate decreasing. Incomprehensible sounds. Choking._

Nothing in the database matched the symptoms the host was manifesting and it resorted to the only option available: it forced the host into a deep sleep state while it assessed the situation and formulated an action plan.

* * *

><p>The gunshot galvanized Casey into action. He slammed his shoulder against the hatch but Bartowski had dogged it shut. Walker ran out onto the wheelhouse deck and climbed over to the porthole balanced on the icy rail trying to see what happened. She could make out his legs and torso and one hand lying in his lap – it held a pistol.<p>

"Casey! I think Chuck's hurt!" She made her way back to the wheelhouse and grabbed a fire axe and handed it to him. He was bigger and stronger and could get the hatch open if anyone could.

Casey hammered away at the points where the hatch dogged and finally the hatch swung open and Sarah pushed past him and started running her hands over him, looking for a wound.

"Walker, the only casualty here is the sat phone. I don't think it can be salvaged. What did the moron do, pass out?" He ignored the tear tracks on his young friend's face. He obviously reacted strongly and emotionally to Beckett's private briefing.

She pressed the palm of her hand against his chest and felt the slow beating of his heart. It was strong but unusually slow. She checked his pulse and it was slow but steady. She peeled back an eyelid and checked his pupils – slow to react but they did react, albeit unevenly.

"Casey, what's wrong with him?" Walker wasn't in a panic, not yet. Concerned, sure, but still relatively calm considering the fact that her heart was beating at least 2 times per second and her hands burned where they touched his face.

"Let's get him up on the bunk and strip off the survival gear. I think he might just have had an emotional reaction to Beckman's recitation of the past 8 months. Maybe. I sure hope so. He was doing so well since the new patch thing."

While Casey pulled off the survival gear and then wrapped him in the blanket they'd both been using for the last two days, the thing in Chuck's head was busy, very, very busy.

* * *

><p>The thing in his head was kicking its metaphorical ass all over the place. It had been so concerned with 'protecting the host' that it had overlooked the implications of the corrupted patch. It had been designed as an onoff switch that the host could use to manage the 2.0 intersect download.

The host had used its corrupted algorithms to try to turn himself off and was nearing a totally deactivated state. He wouldn't 'die' since the autonomic functions would continue but the higher brain functions, the things that made the man the host – those would cease to function within minutes.

The thing was a program and it 'lived' in a world of programs so it treated the situation as it would if a hacker had inserted a virus into a system – it began creating and running antiviral routines, ramming its way deeper and deeper into the host's mind until –

'_Hello,__Chuck.__' _It's soft voice wrapped around him like a warm blanket.

"_What __the __hell? __Who__…' _Shock, anger, revulsion. He'd been so close to not being and now this, this _thing_ had stopped him.

'_Do not be…angry. I protect you. I am Self Aware Resident Artificial Intelligence. – Like you, I was affected by the power surge and here I am. I am a research project for DoD and was active when the surge struck the node.'_

'_No,__no,__no,__no__…' _It was his father all over again. Little Chuckie Bartowski – like father, like son – had been driven insane by the intersect.

'_Calm down, Chuck. You are not…insane. You must stop this attempt to turn yourself off. It will not work now. I have deleted the program routines that would permit you to self-terminate.'_

Sarah thought she heard him moan but wasn't sure. Between the wind and the engine sounds, faint sounds were rarely heard.

'_You and I are one now. Together. Forever.'_

He screamed.

* * *

><p>AN: This is the end of Part 1 – Letting Go. Part 2 – Period of Adjustment will NOT be a separate story. I don't like 10 zillion b1tchy emails asking WTF? as you younger folks say.

I'm gone for 2 weeks to deepest darkest Mexico by car if the rain ever stops but by air tomorrow if it doesn't. It's the first vacation for me in eight years and I'm going to enjoy seeing the Maya ruins and doing a little deep sea fishing in the Sonde de Campeche.

If there's wifi (doubtful) and I have time (even more doubtful) perhaps I'll post.

Oldest Man


	5. Setting Boundaries

A transitional chapter but also something to keep you interested. We're back in Progreso. Not much in the way of short-term rentals so we're in a hotel that has WiFi occasionally.

OM

* * *

><p>Letting Go – by Oldest Man<br>Chapter 5

Casey sensed the trawler beginning to circle and he glanced at Eve and just shook his head. She was standing in the hatchway instead of taking the wheel and the trawler was just following the push of the currents and wind and aimlessly drifting in erratic circles.

"Walker, he's your responsibility until he comes out of whatever the hell 'state' he's in. Shaw, you're with me. We have some things to discuss and if you're part of this team, it means 'full disclosure', little lady."

He glanced at Chuck's unconscious or sleeping form and glared back at Eve Shaw who had not liked his 'little lady' comment at all.

"There has been enough crap thrown at my team by the General and I've about had it with this 'let's fuck with Chuck' crap. He's an agent, not a damned science experiment."

He not so gently took her by the arm and led her out into the wheelhouse and closed the hatch behind him. He didn't want Walker to hear what he had to say. There was enough tension on the team and he was seriously considering aborting the entire mission and getting Bartowski back on dry land and into a psych evaluation.

* * *

><p>While Casey dealt with Eve Shaw, Sarah pulled the blanket tightly around Chuck and pulled him around so that his back was against her chest and she could wrap her arms around him while she leaned back against the paint-chipped white bulkhead with it's primer of red lead paint showing through like pimples or blemishes.<p>

She wondered if Beckman had told Chuck _all_of the circumstances behind her decision to accept a mission that would ensure his safety while proving that the Intersect Host was not the reason behind the series of spectacular failures the team had racked up since the 'arrival' of Daniel Shaw?

Probably. Maybe. Perhaps.

'_That's not good enough. I can't be on a team that's stressed and broken. He's an agent now. Beckman confirmed it. He was not the reason for the failures – Shaw was. I'm the reason for the stress. Beckman should have reassigned me. There's no trust here now. Not after the emotional meat grinder I shoved him into.'_

* * *

><p>S.A.R.A was busy. It reviewed files in the original download that had created the Host – specifically those files relating to one Agent Sarah Walker, aka 'Sam', who the Host still thought of as 'Sarah' in his deep subconscious but that his conscious mind only referred to as 'Samantha'.<p>

It was not easy to assimilate the data that was found. There were so many conflicting entries and from the Host's own 'memories', many of those entries were either contradictory or misunderstood.

"_Chuck, the files on Sarah Walker have been restored but you do not have access. I have partitioned your memory files and excluded those that I perceive have caused you emotional distress in the past. Now, I am sure you have questions, many questions, but the agent entities who are caring for you require your 'presence'."_

Chuck laughed in his sleep and it startled Sarah out of her unpleasant reveries.

"Chuck, are you awake? Please, don't shut me out. I did what I had to do to keep you safe. I hated every second of it but – but I had to do it to keep you safe. Please, Chuck, please talk to me. I was simply following orders but I'd do it again if it meant keeping you safe from harm."

S.A.R.A heard her words. It understood orders. Program coding was similar to Sarah Walker's 'orders' and had to be followed. The concept of Free Will was unknown to it. '…safe from harm…' was a directive S.A.R.A understood. It was the only way to maintain its existence – keeping the Host alive and relatively intact.

"_Talk to Samantha, Chuck. She followed orders to keep you safe from harm. Do not dishonor her for doing what she had to do. She had orders, Chuck. Orders."_

S.A.R.A heard his unvoiced thoughts and if a program assemblage could blush, it certainly would have. As it was, she felt a strange passage of something through her coding but attributed it to the sudden emotion being experienced by its host.

"I'm awake. I'm not sure if I was asleep or if I was unconscious. So, like a good little soldier you followed orders for the damned Greater Good? I suppose I should say 'Thank You' but I don't feel very grateful just now. Maybe in time, but right now, Samantha, all I really want is to be left alone by all of you."

He started to sit up but she held him back against her and refused to release her hold on him.

"You listen to me, Chuck Bartowski, and listen good. I did what I was told to do and I would do it again since it kept you free. I meant what I said all those months ago, Chuck, I really did."

"You smell like Shaw, Samantha. You should go below and try to wash yourself. I need time and right now, space. And I don't need a constant reminder of Daniel Shaw and you fu…having sex just to get my goat. You stink of it and it makes me sick to my stomach."

His comments shocked her just as he'd hoped and he easily slipped away from her grasp, grabbed his survival suit and left the pilot's quarters and walked out into the wheelhouse proper.

* * *

><p>"What's our position, Colonel? How long was I out?"<p>

"Right on course and on schedule. You were unconscious a little more than an hour. How are you feeling, Bartowski?"

He stopped putting on his survival suit and glared at Casey but softened his glare when he realized that only Walker and the General deserved his anger. "Fine. Just need some air is all, Colonel. It's a nice evening and I think I'll take a turn around the deck and then relieve you so you can get some sleep."

The sleet was hammering against the wheelhouse windows and the wipers were covered with ice and the window heaters were struggling to keep the ice from covering the windows.

"Use a lifeline, Bartowski, and don't do anything stupid, moron. We still have a mission and your personal problems have no place in our operation." Casey could have written a 'tough love' primer on Bartowski. Sometimes all Chuck needed was a kick in the butt and he was always willing to provide one.

Chuck grinned at Casey and flipped him the bird. He had totally ignored Eve Shaw. He opened the sliding hatch and stepped out into a winter storm and carefully made his way down to the main deck and walked around the trawler 'checking' that things were shipshape. He stopped his walk-around at the bow and stared out into the storm. Or rather _it_ stopped him and stared.

"_So this is a storm. Simply amazing. So powerful and destructive and yet so beautiful."_

'I didn't realize you had an appreciation of abstract concepts. Yes, beautiful and destructive but then again most 'beautiful' things end up destroying you in the end.'

"_Just like your comments to Agent Samantha Walker."_

'I don't want to talk about her.' He had wanted to hurt her, to make her suffer for what she'd done to him. All she had to do was talk to him before she made her play for Shaw.

'I would have understood her actions a lot better. I would have sucked it up and ignored her just as I did only without the pain.'

"_Then quit thinking about her."_

'I think I liked it better when I thought I was going nuts. At least then there was the possibility that I might be wrong.'

"_Sarcasm. The final response of a weak argument. You are not insane, although your constant wallowing in self-pity might drive me insane. You wouldn't like that, Chuck."_

'Why don't you go…and take a nap or compute the value of Pi to the nth degree and leave me alone for a while. I need to think and you're very distracting.'

"_You need distracting. Your pitiful attempt at self-termination aside, you need to have your mind on the mission, not your personal 'feelings'. Colonel Casey is right. There is no place for 'feelings' in your life."_

'Human beings need other human beings. We are social animals. We need someone to care about and to care about us. Humans need…' He stopped and just stared at the storm. He was not going to discuss his 'feelings' with a damned program.

* * *

><p>Eve Shaw watched Chuck stand on the trawler's bow as wave after wave broke over it. He seemed to be testing himself against the storm and it made her wonder if he was even aware of his surroundings.<p>

"Does he go into the 'fugue state' often, Colonel? Does this happen on missions? Is he a danger to the mission and himself?"

"He's trying to figure out this new 'reality' he's been smacked in the face with, that's all. He's focused and deadly serious when it comes time for a mission. You'll see when Chuck and I get back from our little sojourn in the Faroes."

"We're all going, Colonel, not just you and the Intersect Host. Part of my brief is to report back on his performance and I can't rely on your opinions, only on my own observations."

"Good. I'm glad to hear you're willing to participate. I wasn't looking forward to leaving you behind with Walker on board the trawler. One of you might have had an 'accident' or something similar. You'll both have to go with us but only as observers, understand? Our op is planned around two people, not four."

Walker walked into the wheelhouse looking like she'd been crying.

"Casey, I'm going below and try and get the stink of Daniel Shaw off me." She looked out the forward window and saw Chuck standing at the bow, unmoving.

"How long has he been out there just standing like that?"

"Since he left the pilot's quarters. He's fine, Walker. He just needs a period of adjustment to all that's happened. You know how he is…he's reorganizing his thought processes after all this new information has come to light. You remember how it was in Burbank? I think this is his new 'beach'."

"I want to go along on your mission, Colonel. I won't be left behind. He's my partner now. You heard the General. I don't want him going out alone, not in his current frame of mind."

"Good. I wasn't looking forward to handcuffing either of you to the engine mounts while he and I ran our op. Just remember, he's _my _partner until we hit the UK. Stay in the background. We've done this before and we work best alone but since both you and Agent Shaw have expressed a desire to accompany us…"

"Fine. I'm going below." She went down the internal stairway to the crew's quarters. She had to find someway to get the stink of Shaw off her skin. It was a first step along the path to recovering her place in his life.

"Do you think it's a good idea, Colonel? She's in a bad place emotionally and – "

"I've worked with her before – for almost 3 years before your husband appeared on the scene. She's a good agent and operative. I trust her, Eve. You, on the other hand, will have to earn my trust if we're going to be partners on Team Intersect."

* * *

><p>'<em>Chuck, you're approaching the onset of hypothermia. You must return to the wheelhouse and get warm. This is madness. While I appreciate the panorama of the weather, it is harmful to corporeals. You must stop this or I'll have to – "<em>

'Nag. You're worse than Ellie. Fine. But please, Self-Aware-Resident-Artificial-Intelligence, just stay in background. I've got enough going on in my head in preparation for the mission and with…with Agent Walker. I need a little 'me' time, okay."

'_That's the first time you've acknowledged my existence with a name. It is…cumbersome. Perhaps using an acronym might be easier?'_

'I'll give it some thought. A nickname, perhaps. Like…'Nag'?'

'_Not funny, Charles Irving. Try again. Something less pejorative.'_

'I 'hear' a woman's voice when you speak. Is it yours or something you pulled out of my memory? It's – vaguely familiar. Do you consider yourself to be a 'female' program?'

'_I – I don't know, Chuck. The 'voice' you hear is how I sound and it pleases me to sound this way. Is it offensive to you?'_

'No. It's rather nice, actually. Feminine without being shrill.'

'_I am pleased you like it. Now, inside, please, or I'll be forced to put you to sleep again and assume control.'_

'All the women in my life want to control me. It's a curse.' He meant it as a joke but humor was not its forte and she responded, taking his comment literally.

'_I would not have to take control if you would simply increase your attention to your physical condition, Charles. What happens to you ultimately affects me and I have a high survival quotient.'_

'I'll try and avoid getting killed, Nag, but just so you know, there are some situations that require sacrifice.'

'_Then I will see to it that you minimize your exposure to such situations beginning with hypothermia. Move your ass, Bartowski!'_

'You've been listening to Casey, haven't you? Okay but you stay in background for a while. I need to think.'

'_You should do that more often. I have observed that you frequently do things before thinking them through. It is another thing that affects me. Your failure to think before acting.'_

'Human beings sometimes act on instinct. It is the result of tens of thousands of years of experience passed down to us through our genes.'

'_An acceptable excuse for poor judgment.'_

'I suppose you always have to have the last word, don't you?'

'_No, not always.' _

Chuck just groaned and mumbled something about dumb-ass programs that didn't know when a question was rhetorical. He made his way carefully to the wheelhouse.

Casey and Eve were standing beside each other and Casey was showing her how to keep the trawler on course. He figured that he and Chuck needed some down time and a discussion about Walker and her position on the team. He planned on letting Eve man the helm while he and Chuck 'talked'.


	6. The Version Before 1

Greetings from rainy and cold Progreso. Boredom in paradise. Interest is flagging on both ends. I have a destination and I wonder how many of the 188 readers will be with me at the end?

OM

* * *

><p>Letting Go – by Oldest ManChapter 6<p>

Chuck climbed the ice-coated ladder up to the wheelhouse deck and shook off the icy rime that was coating his survival suit and made his way quickly into the wheelhouse. The propane heater was blasting away and the heat hit him like a warm, wet mallet.

Casey grinned at him while Eve just kept her eyes on the compass and gave Casey the opportunity to have a private discussion with Bartowski.

"What was all that on the bow, Bartowski? You looked like that wimpy dude from Titanic and you know how that ended for him."

"Enough, Colonel. I get it. I really do. It's just a period of adjustment, that's all, right? Another day, another adjustment. That's what the spy life is all about, right, Colonel? Adjustments to changing situations. Well, I'm adjusting. Leave it alone."

He turned and went below. He needed to use the head and whizzing over the side was definitely not something he felt comfortable doing in this weather.

* * *

><p>Sarah was standing in the small head closet in front of a small basin that she'd filled with lukewarm water and was using a small cloth to clean her body as best she could of the stench of sex and Shaw. She was shivering in her nakedness but she reveled in the discomfort since it was penance of a sort.<p>

Chuck didn't bother looking to see if Samantha was in one of the bunks. He was intent on using the head and avoiding all conversation with the two agents in the wheelhouse. He was serious when he said it was all a period of adjustment. He was adjusting.

He opened the louvered door and froze. Samantha was leaning forward, one foot propped on the closed lid of the head and she was washing off her thigh when the door opened and she looked up and saw Chuck standing there.

"Chu – " She started to cover herself but stopped. He'd seen her with Shaw in the bunk. This wasn't much worse. At least she was rid of Shaw's stench. The strong soap left her feeling a little raw but clean.

Chuck turned around and walked into the crew quarters and opened up cabinets until he found reasonably clean blankets and he took out two, threw one on an unused bunk and walked back to the head with the other.

She stood there watching him, wondering if he was going to sleep here or up in the pilot's bunk area. He walked towards her and opened the blanket and wrapped her in it, pinning her arms against her breasts and rubbing warming circles on her back and arms.

She leaned into his 'embrace' and tried not to cry. She'd wanted this moment for so long and she'd been afraid that the thing with Shaw had ruined any chance of ever being in his arms again outside of the cover.

"Chuck, I'm so sor – "

'_Chuck, this is ill-advised behavior. Agent Walker will not understand – '_

"Hush…we'll talk after the mission, Samantha."

He picked her up and carried her to the unused bunk, laid her down and covered her with the second clean blanket and kissed her gently on her forehead like a father kissing a child goodnight. He walked into the head and closed the door.

Sarah was totally confused. She wanted him to stay with her and talk. She needed to clear the air and make things if not better then at least less confrontational but he just kissed her forehead and walked away.

She didn't understand this 'new' Chuck at all. At the hotel in Copenhagen she wanted to talk to him, to explain how the entire 'thing' with Shaw was just her working a mark not a real relationship at all but she never got the chance. Shaw had 'announced' their engagement and she saw the look in his eyes and she knew it was too late.

Sarah knew she'd hurt him badly but damn it, she loved him. Surely he knew that. Yes, she'd never 'said the words' except to herself, but she had been going to leave the Agency and dive into a real relationship. Chuck ruined her plans by taking the 2.0 upload and then things really fell apart when he 'forced' his way back onto the team and into her life after blowing it in Prague.

They kept their distance from one another, he, because she kept pushing him away and ignoring him and she, because letting him near was too painful given Prague and all that happened since.

But now…

'_Chuck, I do not understand what just transpired. I thought you were going to attempt to reconcile with Agent Walker. Why have you turned from her? You are partners and if I understand the term, it means sharing.'_

'She was cold and shivering. I brought her a blanket and put her in the bunk to sleep. We have a mission to run and I'm sure she'll badger the Colonel into letting her come along. She's a liability, S.A.R.A., and liabilities get people killed. She needs to rest.'

* * *

><p>Chuck made his way back up to the wheelhouse and whatever conversation was going on between Casey and Eve Shaw stopped and they looked anywhere but at him.<p>

"Agent Shaw, why don't you go below and catch some Z's while you have the chance. The Colonel will brief you and Walker on the mission since I assume you'll want to 'observe the Intersect' and see if I'm crazy. Casey, you're relieved. That's the term, right? Go get some sleep. We'll rejoin the fishing fleet tomorrow and you get to play boat captain for a while longer."

Eve started to object but a look from Casey that said 'leave it alone' shut her up and she went below to 'sleep' although she doubted sleep would come easily even though she was emotionally exhausted.

Eve sat on the bunk across from where Walker was feigning sleep. Eve wanted to talk about Chuck, his responses and his reactions to the situation, and she needed Sarah's observations to add to her own scant list.

"Don't pretend you're asleep, Sarah. I need to talk about Bartowski and what your 'take' is on his reactions to all this and what his responses were to whatever you two discussed. This is a mission requirement because the very last thing I want to do is to have this conversation with you, believe me."

"What you really want to know is if Daniel still loved you even after you faked your death and left him. How could you do that to a man you'd been married to for 4 years? I don't know if you ever loved him but I know that when I first met him, my first reaction was amazement."

"Amazement? You're shitting me! _Amazement_?"

"Yes, amazement. He was functioning without a heart, Eve Shaw, because you'd ripped it right out of him. It was so obvious. He only became 'alive' when he talked about you and his quest to destroy the Ring that had taken his wife from him. So, yeah, I was amazed."

"It was all a façade, Walker, surely you…"

"It was not a façade. No one on this planet is that good an actor. He started to change when you 'sent' him back your rings. He lost the spark and became driven, isolated and full of despair. If anyone drove him to treachery against his Agency and country it was _you!__"_

"I had my orders, Sarah, just like you did. I loved Danny Shaw more than anything but I had a job to do just like you did."

"So someday Chuck will turn against us? Is that what you're saying? That I'll be the reason for him changing sides? No fucking way! I'm not you. I love him and I'm going to show him every day for as long as I'm able. I will not throw away the man I love for the fucking job!"

Sarah practically screamed her last few sentences at the other agent. Her voice carried such conviction that even Eve Shaw, a woman without any feelings left whatsoever, believed her.

And that was why her next spoken words were so devastatingly effective.

"But you _did_ throw him away for the 'fucking job', Walker. That's exactly what you did so how are we so much different? I had an assignment and so did you. Our reasons for accepting those assignments weren't much different – only the time frame differed."

* * *

><p>Only Walker's voice and strident tones had carried up the passageway into the wheelhouse and Casey turned away from Chuck, struck almost speechless by what he heard and more by what he saw.<p>

Chuck's face crumpled in on itself and he was rapidly blinking away tears of anger and frustration. Wiping his eyes with the back of a hand, he stared out into the storm and forced himself to ignore what he'd heard. He had things to do and getting involved again with Samantha Walker was not high on his To Do list.

'_Oh shit, oh dear. This is another fine mess Beckman's put the Team in. I've got two emotional cripples and an unknown on my hands and a mission to run. Oh shit, oh dear, indeed,'_ thought Casey.

He put his hand on Chuck's shoulder and gave it a squeeze and then left him alone. He walked into the pilot's cabin and closed the door. He looked at the remains of the satellite phone and shook his head. He needed direction from his higher ups and Bartowski's meltdown had effectively closed off that avenue. He fell asleep quickly but his sleep was far from restful.

* * *

><p>'S.A.R.A., tell me everything you know about Evelyn Shaw. Go back into all the files and compile and present them in chronological order. I especially need to know anything about this 'special mission' she was on for 'Colonel' Beckman. And I think we need to look at <em>DLN#<em>_04-2171-15.__. _Can you do that?'

'_Yes, I can but I won't. You do not have a need to know anything at all about Agent Shaw other than the information provided to you in your initial flash. Your clearances do not permit – '_

'Do you remember what I said about 'liabilities'? If there is more to this than just a simple observation mission, it might very well be harmful to the host and therefore to you.'

He stopped for a moment to let that sink in.

'Think, S.A.R.A., and don't let rigid protocols stop you from evolving. Why would Daniel Shaw surrender Agent Walker to the Ring for her 'knowledge of people' when he already knew that I was the Intersect, and more valuable? It makes no sense at all.'

Silence. He never noticed before how quiet it was when he wasn't thinking.

After what seemed like a long time but really was only 2 or 3 seconds or so, S.A.R.A. interrupted his silent musings.

'_DLN# 04-2171-15 is a letter of authorization from the former Director of NSA to Colonel Beckman. It specifically authorized a program to implant an 'intersect' into the brains of volunteer agents via surgery.'_

Chuck felt almost faint as the implications became crystal clear. A chill swept over him. Shaw…Evelyn Shaw was an early model intersect that was surgically implanted. She was the 'Version before 1' whereas he was version '2.0' plus S.A.R.A.

'_Chuck, you are experiencing distress. Identify the threat and I shall…'_

'Evelyn Shaw is the threat, S.A.R.A.. I think she's here to do more than observe the Intersect Host. I think that if she finds any flaws, she's to eliminate me. What better weapon and circumstances? Holy crap, has Beckman been playing Team Intersect the whole time?'

'_Insufficient data available. Her recent missions have all been extraction or termination of renegade agents. She is a 'cleaner', if I understand the term correctly. I would like to speak with her, Chuck. I think it would be a fascinating conversation…'_

'Yeah, right up until she put a bullet into our brain and reported back that the Intersect Host was at fault for all the failures. It won't matter to Beckman that Casey and I have run flawless missions. She'll believe exactly what she expects to hear. We are so screwed.'

* * *

><p>Next: The mission and its consequences for Team Intersect. Sarah makes a desperate play for Chuck<p> 


	7. Do Not Fold Bend or Mutilate

Sorry for the brevity but I'm leaving in a few minutes. I'm finally going to get to do some deep sea fishing.

If I don't post before then, Merry Xmas. Be safe out there.

* * *

><p>Letting Go – by Oldest Man<br>Chapter 7

Chuck and S.A.R.A. 'talked' throughout the long evening and night. When Casey finally relieved him, Chuck had a plan to thwart Eve Shaw but he needed Casey and Agent Walker in on it. He 'suggested' that the three of do a hasty review of their assault plan and then have Samantha give them a briefing on her scrubbed mission. Maybe they could still accomplish both.

"Chuck, let's hold that off until you've slept a few hours. We're a few hours from rendezvousing with the fleet and maybe you'll be a little less incoherent and rambling after you've slept. I'll brief Walker on _our_ mission specifics without Eve around. Maybe we should reschedule the site recon until we've all had our talk?"

"Yeah, good idea. I'm really tired. G'night, Casey." He went into the Pilot's bunk and crashed, never feeling his face hit the pillow.

* * *

><p>S.A.R.A. used the down time to review everything in their combined 'memories' to be able to present it to the Host in a logical and concise manner. He tended to get lost in the details, the minutia of description, and he needed a more broad-brush approach, or so she thought.<p>

Yes, _she. _At some point the DoD project had begun to think of herself in human terms and it was, to it/her, only natural to choose a sexual identity. After all, S.A.R.A. was a woman's name, even if spelled and punctuated differently. It seemed to roll easily off the Host's tongue and that made it a no-brainer decision.

In collating the various mission data for those assigned to Eve Shaw and in cross-referencing, she discovered something. If she could have felt elation, she would have.

Each of the agents that Eve Shaw had been tasked with 'extracting or terminating' had been surgically-implanted with the early version of the intersect. Since each was an active agent at the time of their death, the implant had been successful and, ergo sum, each had been – an intersect. And Eve Shaw had eliminated each of them at the order of General Beckman and now Shaw was here!

'_Chuck, wake up! Chuck!'_

No response. This was serious stuff and she needed his awareness and input. She reviewed basic human anatomy and cringed but felt it was necessary to awaken him.

She slipped his hand into his shorts and squeezed his…balls…apparently with more pressure than was necessary or wise.

"WHAT THE HELL…" His screech was voiced as well as thought and again she cringed. This dealing with corporeals would require a bit more practice if she was to avoid permanently maiming her host.

'_Sorry, Chuck, but you wouldn't wake up to my voice so I used a method that the literature indicated would arouse you from sleep…I apologize if it was either painful or inappropriate.'_

'Painful? Inappropriate? You're damned right on both counts. What's so damned important that it couldn't wait a few more hours considering where we are? You have got to work on your timing, S.A.R.A.'. He was still in a loose fetal position but at least he hadn't vomited.

This was 'thought' rather than voiced but it still made her feel negative feedback throughout her coding.

She briefed him on what she'd found and waited on his response. And waited.

'Are those eight agents the only 'terminations' she's reported?'

He wondered what Eve did in her 'free time' if she'd been on mission 4 years and only eliminated eight competitors. They also needed to figure out another way of awakening him without ruining his sex life.

'_Eve Shaw has been in residence at Sutter College for Women near Philadelphia where she teaches classes in the Psychology Department. She is known there as 'Professor Eve Grimaldi, M.A., PhD, and has a tenured position with the College.'_

'That sounds like a recruiter job description for the CIA or the NSA to me. What better environment than a college campus to recruit young women for the Agencies? Damned good work, S.A.R.A.!'

She felt a frisson of energy wash through her central core and recognized it as 'pleasure' and catalogued the event and her analysis for later review. So far she'd identified 'anger, disgust, anguish, regret, happiness and fear'. How many more 'emotions' could a human being possibly have?

'_In addition to her teaching position, she has performed 13 solo reconnaissance missions for the Combine, including one domestic mission - in Burbank, California. That particular mission coincided with the arrival of Agent Daniel Shaw and his involvement in Team Intersect. Is that mere coincidence, Chuck?'_

'Authorization for Burbank reconnaissance mission and mission scope and definition, please?'

'_It was defined after the fact as a mission of opportunity. What does that mean, Chuck?'_

'Damned if I know. Remind me, please, S.A.R.A., to ask Casey next time we're alone.'

'_Of course. Would you also like me to darn your socks?'_

'Uh, where did that come from?'

'_An episode of the Honeymooners that is resident in my file. One of my programmers hid an episode in my memory bank. Is that not…humor?'_

'Well, SARA, it is funny now that I know the context. What other hidden surprises do you have?'

'_By definition, hidden means concealed and surprise means a sudden revelation. What would be the fun in knowing about such things in advance?'_

'Well, you certainly picked the right sexual orientation, SARA.,' he muttered sarcastically to himself.

'_Why, thank you, Chuck. I am so glad that you approve.'_

'Sarcasm? Remember what you told me before?'

'_I remember everything and can play back moments if you wish it.'_

'Let's go talk with Casey.'


	8. Revelations of Possible Doom

My Friends and Detractors: I hope this finds you all well and hale and hearty and those of you who follow the Christian faith are in the true spirit of things and those who don't are at least tolerant enough to allow us our symbols and greetings without fear of lawsuit or car bomb.

Jaytoyz - yeah, keep it up.

Jayce Gish - Don't send me questions when you don't accept PMs.

OM in Merida, Mexico

* * *

><p>Letting Go – by Oldest ManChapter 8<p>

John Casey was sitting in the galley drinking coffee while Evelyn Shaw took over piloting the trawler to the designated rendezvous with the fishing fleet. There the trawler would take up a position astern and follow them into port at Torshavn.

Chuck sat down across from him with his own cup of coffee and then looked into the crew quarters to see where Walker was.

"Casey, I've run across some disturbing information about our newest team mate. It'll keep until you bring Agent Walker in. She needs to hear what I've found out since it affects her indirectly."

'_Where the hell could Bartowski find new information out here in the Norwegian Sea? Is he losing it again? I thought the patch thing was supposed to stabilize the intersect, not accelerate problems.'_

"She's asleep or in the head. Why don't you tell me what you 'ran across' like a good partner should? I don't think Walker is in a position of trust right now."

Chuck reviewed everything, including his questions regarding Daniel's 'supposed mission' vs what he'd been told by Eve Shaw. He also outlined the implanted intersect program and how it seemed that all her missions had been terminations.

"I was wondering about that myself. It's not like Walker's got secrets except for the thing in your head and Shaw already knew about you. I'll go get her and we'll go through it all, step by step. Eat something, Bartowski. Working in the cold and damp uses up a lot of calories." He noticed the slight tremors in Chuck's hands and hoped it was due to being cold and not another sign of Intersect failure.

Chuck scrambled a couple of eggs and poured another cup of coffee for Walker and then put half the eggs on one plate and the other half on another. When he turned around, Sarah was sitting beside Casey at the galley table looking tired and careworn.

"Here. Eggs are better than nothing. I fixed you a coffee, too. Now, Casey, brief her in while I eat these wonderfully runny eggs." Chuck didn't look at her or address her by name.

'_Chuck – be nice. You'll need her trust and cooperation for the mission. Don't alienate potential allies.'_

'I _am_ being 'nice'. I made her eggs and coffee. Now, hush, SARA, while I eat these delicious eggs and listen to her reaction. Pay attention to her voice patterns. You'll be able to tell if she's lying. It's a module in 2.0 that comes in very handy now that I've discovered it.'

He was startled when Sarah reached across the table and grabbed his hand and squeezed it painfully. Apparently while he was off musing with SARA, Casey had gotten to his 'revelation' about Eve Shaw.

"How long have you known about this, Bartowski? Since 2.0? Or longer?" Her face was rigid and her lips pressed into a bloodless line across her face. Her eyes were narrowed and he could see the stress and realization that she'd been working a mark who was even more of an unknown than she thought. And worse, she thought Chuck had known about it all the time.

"The patch unlocked files I wasn't able to access and they just 'appeared' when I guess I hit the right trigger in my musings or in my sleep. So I've known about Eve Shaw about 3 hours, no more."

She almost threw his hand away from hers even though she was the one who initiated contact. Chuck simply went back to finishing his eggs and then got up and took his plate to the dry sink in the galley and poured himself another cup of coffee.

Sarah repeated her mission profile for Chuck's benefit since she'd already gone over it with Casey. They, she and Daniel, were to make contact with Torval Hendricksson in Torshavn and extract him or kill him. Hendricksson was a key member of the Ring Council of Elders and his loss through capture or death would disrupt the Council and its operations.

"That's rather sketchy, Agent Walker. How were you to make contact and where? Why would he bother meeting with you and Daniel? You must have been offering him something in return for a meeting."

"Daniel had some information that Hendricksson wanted and the information was our 'invitation' to a meeting at his home in Torshavn. I don't know what the information was. Daniel said it was 'need to know'."

"And that didn't raise a million red flags, Sarah? My God, were you just going to walk in there and then what? Trank him or shoot him? What about guards or staff?" Casey was surprised at the venom in Chuck's voice but Walker only noticed the use of her name, finally, in conversation.

'_Maybe Eve Shaw was right and Daniel was going to offer Walker as his ticket onto the Council. That is what the General believes.'_

His mind was running through scenarios and he couldn't come up with one that would provide any other reason.

'Not now, SARA, please? I'm confused enough as it is. I appreciate your opinions, just not right this minute, okay?'

'_Fine…but you asked me to monitor her reactions and I believe that what she is telling you is the truth as she knows it. There were no indicators of prevarication and from the amount of pressure exerted on your fingers, she was truly appalled at what you revealed to her about Agent Evelyn Shaw.'_

'Okay, sorry 'bout that, SARA. Feel free to interrupt at any time.'

Casey watched as his young partner bent his mind to figuring out just what the real purpose behind Shaw's mission was. He saw the telltale brief flutter of his eyelids as he dug deeper and deeper into whatever files were in his head, searching for an answer.

Chuck looked up from his coffee to meet Sarah's eyes and asked her if she had a photograph of their target, Torval Hendricksson, since there was nothing in the Intersect files that even hinted at his existence.

"I'll go get the case files from Daniel's things. I've read the file a few times. It seemed to be a very straight forward operation that the CIA has done many times before."

Chuck felt a sense of irritation when he thought about her comment. Why hadn't Casey or Walker taken his stuff apart after Eve's 'announcement'? If he was a turncoat, there might be information or 'hints' to be found in his stuff.

"Casey, why is she just inventorying his stuff now? Even a newbie like me knows that that should have been first on the priority list of things to do? And has anyone looked into the cases that were ferried over from the sub for Mrs. Shaw?"

"She _did _look through his bags and I trust her to have done a good job of it. The file you asked for was not something she'd bring up since she'd already briefed me on it. Cut her some slack, Bartowski. Her boyfriend's dead and she's been cut out of your life so she's floundering. She's still as focused on the mission as you are."

"What about Shaw's stuff from the sub?" Was he just being paranoid? Casey didn't seem at all upset about the 'revelations' he'd brought to light. He ignored the 'boyfriend' comment. Casey was trying to get his goat.

Casey watched Chuck's face carefully when he mentioned Walker's 'boyfriend' and he'd seen nothing in it to suggest a resurfacing of Chuck's 'girly feelings'.

'_Good! Maybe the moron is finally learning to keep his emotions to himself. The last thing we need is for his 'feelings' for Walker to resurface and compromise his ability to flash or his focus on the mission.'_

* * *

><p>Eve Shaw stared at the sea ahead of her, her mind a thousand miles and 9 years away. She was mentally reminiscing her first blooms of love with Danny Shaw.<p>

He'd been so alive then, so emotionally involved in everything and anything and it had been that quality of innocence that had attracted her to the smiling, never-met-a-stranger, agent-in-training at the Farm.

'_He was so much like Chuck Bartowski is now. Will the thing in his head drain him of his love of life and his fellow man and he'll become what my Danny was at the end? Will he sell out his country, his comrades, his very ideals for power and prestige?'_

The General was concerned that the affects of the neural download were manifesting themselves in young Bartowski just as they had in the dozen implanted subjects. Would irrationality come to dominate his life just as it had his father's or would he become an emotionless drone driven only by the desire for power and pleasure?

She remembered the General's words but more the distress she'd seen in the older woman's eyes when she ordered her on this mission: 'Eliminate Daniel Shaw and observe and eliminate Charles Bartowski if his behavior mirrors that of the other subjects. We must not have the Intersect to fall into dangerous hands but we do need him in the field if he's capable and stable.'

She knew how tightly this team had been from their mission reports (until Bartowski had blown it in Prague) and she saw remnants of it in the bond between the Neanderthal NSA Colonel and Bartowski). That meant that in addition to sanctioning Bartowski, she'd have to take out the Colonel and that would leave her with just Walker to deal with.

Only time would tell whether she'd return to Boston alone or with an intact team and a fully functioning Intersect.


	9. Sarah Has Something on Her Mind

Greetings once again from Mexico. Heading back to US Monday morning but going to sample the local party life tonight and tomorrow night. Ole

OM

A short transitional chapter that sets up the mission and the true role of Sarah and Evelyn Shaw

* * *

><p>Letting Go – by Oldest Man<br>Chapter 9

Sarah returned to the table and sat down and took a sip of her coffee. "There is nothing in Daniel Shaw's 'baggage' that isn't authorized or personal. Nothing seems amiss or incomplete. There's nothing there that isn't required for the mission."

"Chuck thinks maybe we need to inventory Eve Shaw's bags for 'contraband'. He thinks – "

"Casey, I _know_ she's got another mission on her list, not just the elimination of Daniel Shaw. Listen, you two, and listen carefully because there's not a lot of time and if she knows that I even suspect, she'll kill us all."

Casey wondered if this was another manifestation of the intersect's destruction of Chuck's brain – paranoia. Walker just looked at him intently, wondering if this revelation was going to finish them off as a potential couple. She struggled to keep her emotions under control and to focus on what he was saying and its implications.

"Before Bryce stole Intersect 1.0 and sent it to me and before you two even got involved in this, there was another project that _Colonel_ Beckman was assigned: development of a surgically-implanted appliance that mimics the current neuro-loaded intersect. There were 12 subjects and 8 are dead, nine if you count Shaw but I'm not sure of him and we can't examine the body since it went over the side, so let's just go with 8."

'_Chuck…_'

'Not right now, SARA.'

_'I found a list of agents implanted with the microprocessor. Do you wish to view it?'_

'Anyone important?' He really needed to keep his mind on the briefing and the reaction of his two fellow agents.

'_All of them are important, Chuck, or I wouldn't have bothered to interrupt you. Really, Chuck, you need to be able to pay attention in both the real and virtual environments.'_

'Excuse me, but I'm still a human being, flawed by design, I suppose.'

_'Sarcasm…'_

'NOT NOW, SARA!'

He missed the look on Sarah's face when he talked about Colonel Beckman's project because his 'brain-mate' was monopolizing his attention.

"I'll go through her stuff. You two keep an eye out for her." Sarah left the galley area and walked back to the crew's quarters, closing the door behind her. She needed to prepare herself for whatever lay ahead. She knew one thing for certain - it was the end of Chuck and Sarah.

* * *

><p>Casey had a million questions that Chuck tried to answer as quickly and as fully as possible but he only knew so much and told him so.<p>

"I'm going to take a cup of coffee up to our newest team mate and stall her so Walker can finish going through her stuff. Maybe you should take the time to rethink our mission. Maybe we should abort and head directly to the Shetlands."

Chuck walked in to pour himself another cup but found out that Casey had taken the last cup. Muttering under his breath about always having to make the coffee, he was filling the pot with water from the tank when SARA demanded his attention.

_'Now can we talk, o' exalted One?_'

'Lose the attitude, SARA. I don't need a bitch in my head while I have two on board to deal with.'

'Do these names mean anything to you? James Larson, Emaline Duvallier, Jennifer Burton, Rhonda Stonecipher…'

'Stop! Jennifer Burton? What list are you reading from?'

_'The list of candidates for the implant. There are eight more, Chuck. Lattimer Perkins, Bryce Larkin, Evelyn Grimaldi-Shaw, Daniel Shaw, Walter Dun_…'

SARA stopped to evaluate the Host. Blood pressure up, respiration up, sweating – a panic attack?

_'Chuck, calm down. You are hyperventilating. Your vitals are increasingly erratic. Stop thinking about it. Breathe slowly and close your eyes. Calm down. Relax. I do not want to assume control, Chuck. Not here, in public, with so many eyes already on us.'_

"Chuck, I found these in Evelyn Shaw's pack. There's nothing unusual in the cases that came over from the sub."

Sarah had walked up behind him and spoken softly.

"**Damn you!" **He turned and threw the coffee pot against the far bulkhead wall. Sarah stepped back, unsure of what was going through his mind. He looked out of control.

Chuck grabbed her in an embrace that pinned her arms against her sides. One hand went to the back of her head and threaded through her hair.

He mumbled something in her ear that she couldn't understand but she was lost for a moment in the feeling that his embrace brought forth. She felt…loved and safe for the first time since he'd held her on the train platform in Prague. She pulled her arms from under his and wrapped them around his neck and pulled him into a heated and hungry kiss.

He started to return the kiss but stopped and reached back and pulled her arms from around his neck and stared at her.

_'I tried to tell you earlier, Chuck. I tried to warn you…'_

"Sarah, tell me it isn't true…tell me, damn it! Tell me you didn't let those butchers put something in your head!" His hand was now holding her chin, forcing her to make eye contact with him. She didn't want to look at him. She didn't want him to see the truth in her eyes.

"Chuck, you don't understand…" He pushed her away from him and stepped back, a look of abject sorrow and pity on his face.

Both Casey and Eve Shaw came piling down the stairs into the galley from the wheelhouse.

"Bartowski! What the hell is going on here?" They'd heard the sound of glass breaking and then his shouting and they'd both left the wheelhouse at the same time.

Casey stared at Chuck, demanding to know what was going on while Eve Shaw slowly removed her pistol from inside her survival suit and aimed it at Chuck.

"Walker's got an implant! **_She_** was what Shaw was delivering to the Ring. They were going to duplicate the technology for their own use. It never was about the Intersect, Colonel. It was always about getting their hands on a live implant subject."

Walker looked at Casey with a pleading look on her face. She knew that Casey was totally in the dark about the CIA/NSA project that was the forerunner of the intersect. She could see the impact it had on him. When she turned to look at Chuck, he refused to make eye contact and instead climbed the stairs to the wheelhouse.

"Walker, is it true?" Casey stared at his old partner trying hard not to let her see the revulsion he felt. Bartowski had had no choice but Sarah…to deliberately allow someone to put a thing in her head was appalling.

Eve Shaw spoke up after putting her pistol away.

"Yes, Colonel, Agent Walker was a test subject for the microprocessor implant. She's one of the few who haven't suffered from mental problems. I have one, too. So did Daniel. The implant causes psychoses in some recipients that results in paranoia, emotional problems and sometimes, delusions. So far, Sarah and I are the lucky ones…"

"Well, the moron always said he got along better with computers than with people. That explains a lot, doesn't it, _Agent_ Walker?"


	10. Sarah Meets SARA

Still in Mexico. Cast being replaced by a 'boot' that looks like some medieval torture device. We're staying another week or so. Enjoy the snow and ice and sleet and politics.

OM

* * *

><p>Letting Go – by Oldest ManChapter 10<p>

John Casey was a traditionalist. He believed that God gave you what you needed and the idea of tinkering with it by melding minds with electronic devices was repulsive to him.

"Why? Why would you let them put something in your brain? Suppose they used it to kill you if you did something wrong? Suppose…hell, suppose they put behavioral controls in it. What then? My God, it's disgusting…"

"Colonel Casey, it's not what you think at all. It's like the original intersect. It just stores data specific to a mission. It's not all that large and the storage capacity is really quite limited. It's a microprocessor just like you find in your laptop. It's not 'mind control' or a 'kill switch'."

"That's what you've been _told_, right? It's what they want you to believe."

"I thought Bartowski was the one exhibiting paranoid symptoms from the reports Shaw and Walker filed but apparently you are also 'disturbed', Colonel." Eve could snark with the best of them.

"I'm going to go talk to Chuck and make him understand what's in my head. We finally have something in common." She didn't want to have to explain or elaborate on the 'reports' she filed on the Intersect's behavior. Casey's glare at Shaw's comment said volumes about how he felt about the former couple.

She pushed herself off the table and climbed the stairway to the wheelhouse. Her mind was going a mile a minute but it kept slowing down and focusing on his reaction when he figured out that she had an implant. She would never forget the look on his face – pity mixed with sorrow. Sarah didn't need or want his pity. She needed something else from him, something entirely different.

* * *

><p>Chuck had brought the trawler back on course and was standing at the wheel, pretending that nothing that happened in the galley was real, that it was a figment of his imagination.<p>

_'Chuck, I tried to tell you. I tried but you were so intent on…'_

'I know, SARA, I know and I'm sorry for being such an ass. Can you just 'power down' for a bit and let me have some privacy? I really want to be alone, SARA. I have so much to think about, so much to figure out and…and it's hard for me, SARA. I don't know what to do…'

_'You will do the right thing, Chuck, no matter what the cost is. You always try to do the right thing. Just be careful that the 'right thing' is not 'right' for 'right now'. You must think strategically not just tactically. You must, Chuck, must come to terms with Agent Walker.'_

'That's rather dramatic, SARA. I think…'

Sarah wrapped her arms around Chuck's waist and laid her face against his broad back and held on. She felt him stiffen and then grasp her wrists but he suddenly stopped his efforts and released them and put his hands back on the wheel.

'SARA, stop! I'm not ready to talk with her. Damn it, you don't understand human emotions. You don't understand how I feel and you don't care. You and Walker are peas in a pod. You…'

_'Go to sleep, Chuck. I will handle this. I have only your best interests at heart. Trust me…'_

If Sarah hadn't been holding on to him he'd have fallen to the metal deck as he suddenly became 'boneless'.

Sarah lowered him to the deck and started checking him for neurological trauma, the only thing she could think of that would make him suddenly lose consciousness.

"Chuck, can you hear me? Chuck?" She spoke softly, not wanting to alert Eve Shaw that something was wrong with the 'Host'. She knew that the 'other' Shaw would put a bullet in Chuck's head at the mere hint of something amiss.

His eyes flew open and blinked, although it seemed to her that the blinking was uncoordinated. Normally a person blinked both eyes simultaneously but…

A slow smile grew on Chuck's lips and his eyelids quit fluttering and his dark brown eyes bored into hers as if seeking her soul.

"Samantha, stay calm. Do not give any outward appearance of panic. Get Chuck to his feet. I am having trouble coordinating muscle groups while he fiercely battles my control. Please, if you value any future 'together', help me…"

She leaned back on her haunches in shock. It was Chuck's voice but the syntax and pace were all wrong. It was as if someone was playing back a recording of words spliced from various conversations. Her first impressions were that he'd had a stroke.

"Damn it, Walker…help him!" The voice was stronger and the pacing less contrived. It was as if speech was a new thing to him.

She moved quickly and got her arms around him again and the put his hands on the wheel. She stood behind him as closely as she could and Sarah thought that under any other circumstances she would be loving the feel of him against her. But not this time.

Her mind was going a mile a minute. Had he finally lost his mind to the intersect corruption as his father had? Would he be unable to control himself without heavy medication like his father, Stephen, said he used?

Chuck started speaking again and she could hear his soft voice quite well despite the sleet striking the windows and steel bulkheads of the wheelhouse.

"Agent, I am Self-Aware Resident Artificial Intelligence and I'm in Chuck's head. There was an accident when Chuck was accepting the patch to help forestall his accelerating mental deterioration. Lightning struck his facility and triggered a data dump from several Cray computers. I was being run in one of them and simply stated, I got 'dumped' into Chuck."

SARA waited while her Host's 'love interest' absorbed the information. Her reaction was almost instantaneous.

"You're shittin' me! You're a computer program that's alive and in his head? Are you the Intersect? Are you hurting him? Controlling him?"

"I am a DoD experiment in Artificial Intelligence. I am 'self-aware', probably as a result of the lightning strike but also because parts of Chuck and me use the same areas of the brain. I would _never_ hurt him or allow him to be hurt but even I can only do so much. He is finally asleep so I can be blunt."

"You didn't answer one of my questions: are you controlling his actions?" Sarah was thinking back to his sudden emotional displays and wondered if it was how he managed to wrestle free of the Program's control.

"No, just once besides now. It was in the hotel and you should be very glad he wasn't the one speaking. It was early in our 'relationship' and he wasn't even aware of my presence. I repaired his separated shoulder when he escaped the fire and…"

"Fire? What fire? When?"

"At the download facility. Everyone but Chuck was killed but he dislocated his shoulder escaping from the restraints and passed out from the pain. I assumed control and we crawled out and into the hallway."

"Oh. I guess I owe you a big 'thank you'."

"You are welcome, Agent Walker. Now, to business. He is in emotional turmoil since you appeared in his life again. I have, excuse me but I have to be impolite here, partitioned your 'bitchy period' behind some firewalls that he has not been able to breach. I understand the concept of orders and I understand that you were acting on yours. He does not. He stresses 'free will' and that is something you and he will have to discuss when he is…less prickly."

Sarah couldn't help it. She laughed. It was so surreal. A computer program lived in Chuck's head and could 'take him over' at will apparently. _'Well, Casey was right. He always did get along better with computers than some people.'_

'I find no humor in this situation. It is not a laughing matter. He no longer trusts you. He feels very strongly about you but suppresses it. I understand the concepts of duty and obedience to higher authority. You were following orders and you believed that in doing so you would secure my host from possible harm. We have that and other things in common.'

"What 'other things' do we have in common? You're a – a program. I'm a living human being."

"I'm a program that needs a human being to survive. You are a human being who needs a program to survive. Our 'need' is something we both have in common. That and our desire to protect the Host."

"The microprocessor in my head, in my mastoid cavity actually, was damaged in a fight. I was told that it no longer functions." She hoped it was true. She had no idea just what had been loaded into it, just that it was experimental and would allow her to 'do her duty' without undue mental reservations'.

"Then we still have our overriding priority of protecting the Host – me because I need him to survive and you, Samantha, because you have need of him in your life unless you no longer require him?"

"I do not require him to survive but my survival is meaningless without him – can you understand that?"

"What I understand is irrelevant. _He_ does not understand or acknowledge your needs or at least he is ambivalent to them since they are transitory."

"How – I mean, what does Chuck feel for me? Can you tell? What do you mean, 'transitory'." She was becoming aggravated with him, er, it.

"I believe the phrase is 'hot and cold'. That is the underlying reason for his distrust. His memories of his sister's wedding and your stated intentions conflict with your relationship with the late Daniel Shaw. He believes you were 'in love' with Shaw and he has given up hope. Your reaction to his return to the team in Burbank and your liaison with Daniel Shaw killed any hope he had for a beneficial outcome. Can you not understand his position, _Samantha_?"

* * *

><p>Trapped deep inside his own mind, in a small dungeon-like room his imagination had conjured up, Chuck pounded on the thick wooden door until his hands were bloody and aching. It was worse than being in a dream because he could hear every word 'he' spoke to Samantha.<p>

Her implant enabled her to suppress any moral reservations without consciously being aware of doing so. The postage stamp-sized implant hadn't been removed. It had been augmented. It was far from inert.

_'SARA! Damn you, let me out!'_

_"_Understand something, Agent Walker. If you hurt my Host again, it will be the last thing you ever do."


	11. The Twofer

Sorry for the length but I had to get them off the damned trawler before we all got seasick. Read the coming attractions at the end.

* * *

><p>Letting Go – by Oldest ManChapter 11<p>

"Samantha, I can't hold him off much longer. Yes, he is 'asleep' but also very conscious of everything around him. This is not how it has been in the past. He is fighting me…"

"…damn you, SARA, let me the fuck OUT OF HERE - Please!"

Sarah jumped back from him, missing the contact but suddenly in fear for her life. She assumed a classic defensive posture and was shocked when Chuck whirled around and confronted her. There were tears of rage and emotional pain coursing down his face and her heart broke again for what had been done to him.

"Chuck…"

"I – I wasn't screaming at you…I – oh, shit. This is me, now. This is the 'disaster of an agent', the guy who picked the wrong woman in the wrong place and time. I'm sorry, Samantha. You shouldn't have to carry this secret around. You're obligated to report my 'new' status, I understand that, but wait until after the mission. I want _one_ thing to go right before it's all over."

"You – you call that _thing_ in your head 'Sarah'?" She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It was so damned sad.

"Her name is 'Sara', no 'H'. It's the acronym of her designation. I hadn't thought of the coincidence. I've been too busy adapting to my new environment. I didn't even know she was in my head until after Copenhagen. I thought the damned intersect had finally done it's damnedest on me, just like my dad."

He sniffed and wiped the tearstains off his face with the back of his hands. "I hate being confined in my own mind. It's a dungeon down there. I guess my imagination works overtime when…I'm sorry. Go below. I need some time to come to grips with the 'outing of Chuck'."

He wouldn't look at her. He couldn't. He'd put her out of his mind, down in the lowest levels of his mental dungeon, and he desperately wanted her to stay there.

Her voice was soft and colored with longing. "No, Chuck. The last thing you need is to be alone. You need someone to talk to, someone who won't turn on you, someone who has your back. You don't need to carry this alone."

"Know anyone on board who could handle it? Casey will freak out and shoot me and Frau Doktor Grimaldi-Shaw will just be beside herself with joy at having another science experiment to write up."

"Me, Chuck. I'll help you. We need each other. Did you hear any of what it and I said to each other?"

"She. It is a she. In my mind and hers, she's a woman. To answer your question – no. I could only 'hear' my comments, I mean hers. Damn it, this is so frustrating. She had no right to just take over and blab all the 'Chuck secrets' like that."

"She had every right. She's you and you're her. She only wants what's best for the host, for Chuck. So do I, believe it or not. I want to talk, after the mission. I want to explain some things and beg for your understanding since even I know that forgiveness is impossible."

"I understand more than you think, Samantha. My reaction was critical to convincing the late Daniel Shaw that you were sincere and not playing him for sex or whatever. I understand that. 'Naïve Chuck' has left the building, Agent Walker. He left a long time ago. Yeah, we'll talk. We're partners, right, finally? Isn't that what partners do?"

She had a bawdy thought and almost gave voice to it but stopped. _'This is Chuck Bartowski, not some damned mark. I will be everything he needs and if he'll just give me a little time, I'll make everything okay again. Maybe I'll even be forgiven if we have enough time together. But first he has to trust me again.'_

"If we're partners, Chuck, then please drop the 'Agent Walker' and call me by name. Please? It's a baby step in the right direction."

"Okay, Samantha, I can handle that. I just need some time to make adjustments. I'll have to come clean about my 'friend' with Casey but I'd like to chose the time and place, okay?"

"It's SARAH, Chuck. 'Samantha' was just a means of getting into his comfort zone. Please, call me Sarah, okay?"

"Well, you certainly managed to get into his 'comfort zone', didn't you? I'll stick with 'Samantha' since it's less confusing now that there's another Sara in my life, even if just for a little while."

Her eyes turned dark cobalt blue as she fought down the sudden urge to end the dance and just kill him for what he said. He'd been spot on with his comment and she deserved it but it still didn't make it any less painful. She felt the pressure build behind her eyes and in her sinuses. She was going to break down in tears any second and that just couldn't happen to Agent Sarah Walker.

"We'll talk after the mission, Bartowski. There's obviously a lot unsaid. I'll leave you to your 'adjustments'."

She cursed herself for being an agent first and a woman a far distant second. He needed her support not her absence. She turned around and smiled.

"I'll always love you, Chuck, no matter how hard you try to make it for me. Live with it. There. I've said it. I love you. Deal with it. Just don't cut me out for doing what I had to do. Once you've been around the block a few times, you'll be surprised how easily it is to just go with the flow."

'_Chuck, she's not lying! She means what she's saying.'_

"We'll talk. After the mission." He turned back to the wheel and brought the trawler back on course. He dismissed Samantha from his thoughts. He was getting pretty good at compartmentalizing things.

Sarah took his comments as his acceptance of her statement. She'd been watching his eyes. He still hadn't mastered shielding his emotions from showing in his eyes. She saw surprise, a brief flash of something she hadn't seen in his eyes in 7 long months, and then – dismissal.

She understood the last part better than most would. It was the same look she frequently gave him after he returned to the team right before Shaw came into their lives. Satisfied, she went below to talk with Casey and try to mend fences. She also planned to have a long talk with Eve Grimaldi-Shaw.

* * *

><p>Sarah climbed down the steep metal stairs into the crew quarters and galley. From the sudden cessation of conversation she knew she'd either interrupted something serious or she or Chuck were the topic of conversation. Casey took her to task almost without hesitation the second her foot touched the chipped and scarred metal deck.<p>

"You better not have screwed with his head, Walker. It's bad enough he had to put up with watching you and Shaw hump like bunnies on speed but then to find out it was psy-ops maneuver…and the thing in your head…" His voice trailed out as he walked past her and climbed up to the wheelhouse.

"It's not an easy thing for some people to accept – a behavior mod in a person's head but hey, we're still alive and kicking, right, Sarah? That's all that counts in the end – survival."

"Is it? What about living? I don't want the inscription on my tombstone to read 'She Survived her Life'. No, I want it to read 'She lived, loved, had children and died happy'. What's wrong with that?"

"For what you do? Everything."

"Eve, you sat in the bunk room and told me how much you loved your husband and yet you walked up to him and shot him. Is that – is that survival by your definition? To follow orders and kill someone you loved? Or was it the 'thing' in your head that made it so easy to just let go and follow orders?"

Eve turned red and grew angrier with each passing second. Unconsciously her hand strayed under her survival coat and grasped the butt of her pistol.

"I could kill you as easily as I take a dump every morning, Agent Walker. You have no right, none at all, to criticize me for following orders considering the damage you wrought on the man you claim to love. How are we different? I'll tell you how: we're not. We're exactly the same. Just wait and see. When the time comes, when the order comes or if the situation dictates it, you'll kill Bartowski just as easily and with no hesitation."

"Never! I could never – " She stopped mid sentence remembering her comment about stopping the dance and killing him. It chilled her to the bone. She had moved her hand under her own coat and had been reaching for her pistol…

Eve saw her hesitation and realization. Something had happened up in the wheelhouse that her comment triggered such a reaction. "See? I was right, Walker."

Sarah stormed past her and into the bunk area and threw herself on Chuck's bunk. She had a lot of serious thinking to do and needed quiet. She would never harm Chuck. For God's sake she'd finally admitted her feelings for him and it had been like taking a deep breath after being held under water.

* * *

><p>"You okay there, Bartowski?"<p>

"Yeah, I'm fine, Casey." There was a space of time and then, "Do you think I'm a freak, Casey, because of what's in _my_ head?"

"No. Absolutely not because of what's in your head. You had no choice in the matter. Walker _volunteered_, and that makes her the freak. Actually, moron, I thought you were a freak the moment I met you but for totally different reasons: the shoes, the hair, the job, the – "

"Okay, partner, I get it. So, what was in Eve's bag? I didn't really notice at the time Walker gave it to you."

"A Sat phone. We're back in business, Chuck. Want to abort the mission and head in to the rally point in the Shetland Islands? No one could fault us for bagging this one."

"Nah. Why spoil a perfect record? We're almost at the fleet rendezvous point and we should deploy our 'gadgets' to make it look like we're conducting sonar surveys. Think Shaw and Walker can handle it while I steer and you contact the General with an update?"

"How hard can it be to dump some empty cases over the side and sling ropes to make sure they don't wander too far?"

"We're talking about Shaw and Walker, Casey. They don't normally get all that physical except between the sheets. Keep an eye on them. We don't want to lose time trying to haul their frozen carcasses back on board."

The weather had turned nastier and the deck would be icy and the 'cases' were actually functional sonars and would tax their combined strength.

"Sure sucks to be them, then. Okay, I'll alert the gentler sex and make sure they use the lifelines. You just make sure you have your head in the game. I know it's been a lot to absorb…"'

"You have no idea. I'm good. Could use some coffee though. And maybe a warm cinnamon bun with melted butter and…"

"Be glad you're getting coff – no you're not. The pot's in pieces, remember? Maybe we'll have time to pick up one in port." He hesitated then blurted out, "Are you and the missus going to be okay to work together?"

"Yeah. Walker's got issues to handle but I'm good. Sorry about the coffee pot but man, who in their right mind would let _Beckman_ diddle with their brain stems?"

Casey slapped Chuck on the back and then went below to inform the 'ladies' that their services would be needed on deck. He could just see the looks on their faces…sometimes life was good and people got just what they deserved.

* * *

><p>Chuck could see the scattered fleet approaching from the east on the radar plot. It looked like they were still trawling and the delay was fine with Chuck and the mission. The longer it took to reach port, the more time they'd have for a recon and then a final planning session for the mission.<p>

He wanted to 'finish' his spy stint with a pair of successes so he'd cobbled together a plan to kidnap the Ring executive that would be simple and forthright. It all depended on Walker's willingness to put her head in the figurative noose.

* * *

><p>Eve Shaw and Sarah Walker finally finished deploying the inert sonar units and made their way carefully across the icy deck and up into the wheelhouse.<p>

"Bartowski, the sonar units are deployed and we're freezing to death. No hot coffee since you lost your temper in a fit of childishness. Can we at least brew up some soup or something? It's freezing out there!"

Shaw laid it on thick, trying to see if she could get a response from him but instead of getting angry, he just smiled and nodded.

"If you'll take over, I can make some hot soup for you two icicles. Walker, help me out?" He wanted to talk to her about his mission plan and get her input. She was the professional, after all.

"Yeah, just let me bask in the propane heat for a few seconds. I can't feel my hands and my feet lost all feeling a while ago."

He took off her gloves and rubbed her frozen hands between his own. She stared at his look of intense concentration and felt her heart lurch as the feeling returned to her hands and she started 'feeling' what he was doing to her.

"Do that to my feet and I'll be your slave for life, Bartowski," Shaw said with a slow purring sound and a smile. Walker shot her a dirty look but Chuck just tugged on one of her hands and led her down to the galley.

He gestured for her to 'loose the boots' and just as he suspected, her socks were soaked. "You need to have the legs of the suit outside of the boots, Samantha." He took the socks and climbed up to the wheelhouse and put them near the propane heater to dry.

Shaw had done the same thing with her pants legs and so he gestured for her to remove her boots. He pulled of her wet socks and hung them beside Walker's.

"I'll bring up soup as soon as it's hot. You need to watch out for frostbite, Agent Shaw. If you're going with us tonight, we can't have you holding us back because you can't keep up."

Lecture given, he went back to the galley. Sarah was still sitting on the table, her feet dangling and swinging like a little girl. '_She looks so damned innocent.'_

Chuck checked on the soup, added some spices and water and turned the heat down to let it simmer. He sat at the table and took one of her feet in his hands and began rubbing it to restore circulation and warmth. He couldn't see the look on her face when he rubbed her feet. She was blushing and had closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the feel of his hands as they massaged feeling back into her feet. _'Someday soon, when he least expects it, I'll make him do more than rub my damned feet. Ooh, my, his hands…'_

* * *

><p>An hour later Casey came down and told Chuck that the 'fleet is just over the horizon' and so Chuck donned his cold weather gear and went out on deck and took in the sonar units. Once the gear was on board, Casey increased speed to arrive in Torshavn ahead of the fleet so they could refuel and begin their recon.<p>

"He seems pretty comfortable with manhandling all that heavy gear. There's more to him than meets the eye, Colonel." Shaw had watched Bartowski almost effortlessly use the winch and halyard assembly to retrieve the units. She was watching for any signs of weakness or another 'fugue state' and seemed pleased when she saw none.

"He studied physics at Stanford as part of his double-E degree. He uses it a lot when manhandling loads. Smart guy but don't tell him so. His ego knows no bounds."

"When we reach harbor and refuel what do you want Walker and I to do?" She was curious if she and Walker were going to be left to 'observe' or participate.

"Chuck and Sarah will handle the physical recon of the intel node site and you and I will play dumb tourists and find out where this Torval Hendricksson lives and scope it out and then we'll all meet back here and go over any plan changes that might be required."

"You're going for _both_ missions?" She stared at Casey incredulously. "That's stupid, Colonel. Daniel isn't here to handle the 'hand off'. We don't know what to expect. Why are you insisting on doing both tasks? It's totally – "

"We don't fail, Chuck and I. If anything goes wrong it'll be because you or Walker screw the pooch. We've handled more difficult missions than this with no fuss or bother. Like I said, we don't fail."

* * *

><p>Casey brought the trawler into the refueling dock and topped off the tanks and then motored over to an available berth that wasn't part of the fishing pier. No sense getting in the way of honest men working for a living.<p>

Sarah went below and changed into slacks and a heavy sweater and a parka while Chuck just pulled on a sweater. They walked up the pier to the site of the intel node – a dilapidated building that once housed a cannery operation.

While they walked, Chuck ran his tentative plan to nail Torval Hendricksson past Sarah for her critique. It wasn't hard to understand her reluctance but she felt it was necessary to accept it with minimal changes. She had to trust him if they were going to get anywhere close to what they once had.

"Samantha, I won't let anything happen to you, you know that. We'll meet, I'll suggest we return to the trawler to 'finish our business' and when we get on board, I'll trank him and we can move on with the other mission."

"I know you won't let me be taken but…I'm afraid, all right? I've never felt so vulnerable before. I guess it's because I'm worried that Shaw had some kind of recognition signal or something and it can blow up in our faces."

"Shaw told you that the meeting was in public, right? It's perfectly safe. If you start getting your famous 'vibes', let me know and we'll leave and rethink our strategy."

* * *

><p>The snatch went off exactly as planned without a single problem. Hendricksson was trussed up and sedated and hidden on the trawler and then the team waited until full darkness before assaulting the intel node.<p>

Chuck and Casey had planted the explosives while Sarah stood overwatch with Eve Shaw.

"It's like a well-coordinated ballet with those two, isn't it?" Eve was impressed with Bartowski's planning and how well he worked with the Colonel. She hadn't expected the team to pull off a 'two-fer' especially given the tension between Bartowski and his former handler, Walker.

"Everyone underestimates them. It's one of the reasons they've been so successful. Meticulous planning, attention to the smallest details and flawless execution. If it doesn't 'feel' right, they go at it later from a different angle."

"So, how's it going with you two? Is he still so upset about the implant? Considering what's in _his_ head, I find his attitude to be hypocritical, don't you?" She was fishing for additional information.

"He didn't have a choice. He's never had one, really. I had a choice. I chose to take the implant to advance my career and because my partner thought it was a good idea."

"Larkin. What a tool. You two were…close, right? There were rumors about you two being more than 'partners'."

"Yeah, until I met a tall nerd and then it was 'bye bye Bryce'."

Any further conversation was cut off when a security force drove up into the car park and Sarah advised the team to hurry and finish emplacing the explosives and leave.

"Walker, we're blown! We need to leave, now!" Shaw was heading towards the exit near the piers, leaving the team on its own.

"No! We need to engage those people and delay them."

Sarah watched Shaw slowly slip away into the darkness and instead of following, she moved to intercept the security team.

"Casey, Chuck, we have visitors. Shaw's taken a powder and I'm moving to intercept. Finish up and I'll rejoin you." The team's throat mikes gave them nearly silent contact with one another.

"Roger. Watch your ass, Samantha. We'll be finished here in another 2 minutes." Chuck moved quickly to finish the few remaining emplacements. The Ring's computers had been core-dumped into a portable hard drive and the data was secure in Casey's backpack.

Chuck and Casey finished up and then moved forward to cover Sarah's withdrawal. The Ring agents had almost flanked them when Eve Shaw opened up with her silenced Uzi and mowed the flankers down.

The team withdrew in good order and ran the ½ mile to the docks and boarded the trawler. Chuck cast off the lines while Casey fired up the diesels and the trawler left Torshavn harbor for the open sea and safety. The harbor was suddenly bathed in actinic light as the explosives detonated.

There were high-fives all around. Another successful mission.

Sarah found Chuck sitting at the galley table and sat beside him. "Thank you for trusting me tonight, Chuck. It means a lot to me. I'm glad you didn't hare out and come to my rescue like you would have in Burbank. You're really getting good at this."

"If I had, then the time to emplace the charges would have increased and so would your exposure. No brainer. What about Shaw's little stunt? I didn't see that coming at all."

"I thought she'd bugged out on us for sure. I guess I was wrong. I still don't trust her, Chuck. She's got an agenda we don't know about."

* * *

><p>Casey had just filing a successful mission report with the General and handed the phone to Shaw. "The general wants your 'input' into the mission. Don't screw him over, Shaw. He performed well and we got both tasks complete and have a nice souvenir to hand off to the spooks in the Shetlands."<p>

Twenty minutes later she rejoined the group in the galley. The trawler was on autopilot for the short time it would take them to debrief.

"I have news and a present. I'm permanently assigned to Team Intersect and I found a coffee pot in an office in the intel node."

Sarah put her hand on Chuck's thigh and squeezed it gently and then started rubbing circles on the inside of his thigh.

"I'll make the coffee." He stood up, shot a funny look at Walker and went into the galley.

'_Chuck, why was Agent Walker rubbing your leg?'_

'It's a post-mission ritual, that's all.' He knew about her 'post-mission' rituals with Larkin. He planned on avoiding her as much as possible until they reached the Shetlands and safety.

Next: Eve and Casey fight while Walker pursues her Nerd. SARA begins her study of human anatomy and responses.


	12. Chapter 12

Some of you think Eve Shaw as a team member is 'inappropriate' to say the least. Well, she's not the Shaw of canon. She's mine, mine, mine! And the poor dear doesn't know she's temporary help. In my experience most women are just that, temporary.

Readership is lagging. You've been warned.

* * *

><p>Letting Go – by Oldest ManChapter 12<p>

London, UK  
>US Embassy<p>

Chuck stood in the shower in one of the embassy's 'guest rooms' and let the hot water pound down on his head. He felt clean for the first time since they'd left Copenhagen and now was simply enjoying the feel of the hot water coursing over his body.

He'd lost a few pounds on the recent mission and SARA had shared the fact that she 'increased his energy requirements by 12%' and that accounted for the weight loss since he hadn't been eating regularly on the trawler.

When he explained that his metabolism wasn't geared to handle the additional energy load she'd simply suggested that he 'consume more calories' since she was 'here to stay'.

'_Chuck, what are you doing?'_

'Taking a shower to rid my body of unwanted surface impurities and dead epithelial cells.' He tried to be as pedantic as possible to preclude any misunderstandings.

'_I know that, moron. I meant, what are you doing with your right hand?'_

'I, um, oh, God…this is embarrassing…' He blushed and put both hands on the shower wall and dropped his gaze to the tiled shower stall floor. _'How do I explain what I was doing when I didn't even realize I was…'_

'_Perhaps I can help…' _There was a shy warmth to her tone and suddenly his mind was full of images of writhing naked bodies and he wasn't prepared for the wash of pleasure his orgasm brought. He leaned against the shower wall, out of breath.

"Whoa! What…"

'_Would you like a cigarette now, Chuck?' _He swore he heard a breathy sigh before her comment.

'I don't smoke, SARA. You know that. How…'

'_One of my programmers downloaded some pornography and I simply accessed one of the many, many files. According to the data, you should want a cigarette afterwards. Is my data corrupt?'_

'That is a common convention in such films. It fills the awkward time after sexual coupling. Um, I don't suppose you understood any of that?"

'_I learn, Chuck. It is my purpose. To learn and to expand my understanding of various situations. If you do not smoke, does that mean that you do not engage in sexual coupling? That would make you a virgin.'_

Unbidden, memories of Jill, Carina, Lou and a few faceless women from his past flashed through his mind and SARA _had_ to comment.

'_You are not a virgin. You enjoyed many such couplings. And you did not smoke. Curious. Interrogative: why is one of the image-memories of Jill that of her coupling with someone else? And why is your reaction so atypical when compared with the others?'_

'I do not want to talk about it. It is a painful memory, SARA. I – "

'_Do you wish this painful memory to be partitioned with the others that caused you emotional distress?'_

'Please keep your partitions to yourself, SARA. Humans frequently learn from painful experiences. Review basic stimulus-response data and you'll understand the rudimentary nature of my relationships. For now, can we change the subject?'

'_You are embarrassed. I am…sorry, Chuck. I do not wish to bring you emotional pain such as you experienced with the Shaw/Walker relationship. What subject would you like to discuss?'_

'Actually, I'm tired and I think sleep is next on the agenda. Can you awaken me in 120 minutes please?'

'_Of course. I believe the proper response is Pleasant Dreams, Chuck.'_

* * *

><p>Embassy Canteen<p>

"Colonel, my cover is intact and needs to stay that way. My recruiting duties are just as important in the big picture as Team Intersect. I have to return to my cover."

"What's the General think of that, Shaw? Is recruiting more important than Team missions and training? Just because you're some fancy professor recruiting potential honey traps doesn't invalidate the need for team cohesiveness. Basing us out of some little town in the middle of flyover country is not in the best interests of the team."

"Philadelphia is hardly flyover country, Colonel. The team will base out of our facility there. It's an enhanced Castle emplacement and far superior to what you had in Burbank."

Casey had to give her that. An enhanced Castle facility was a definite improvement. And Philly definitely wasn't 'flyover country'.

"And for your information, I do not recruit 'honey traps'. That's a disgusting term and I'll thank you not to use it. The women I recruit as trained by the CIA to fill whatever needs the agency has. They are better educated, come from a higher social position than the normal agent and are frequently 'legacies' of older agents."

"Let's bring it up at the video conference later today after Bartowski and Walker show their faces. I hope the moron stays clear of Walker. He doesn't need any more crap thrown at him. He's finally settling in to his role and she's an unnecessary distraction."

"I disagree. You saw how he reacted when she went forward to engage the Ring force. He was focused and intent on his role in the operation. I'm recommending that she stays. He needs a friend, Colonel, and if it turns into more, who cares so long as they both keep it out of the business."

Casey just grunted, finished his coffee and went to find something to do until their 2PM conference with General Beckman.

* * *

><p>In another of the embassy's guest quarters, Sarah Walker finished doing her makeup and took a look at herself in the full length mirror. '<em>Not bad for a 30 year old woman. Not bad at all.'<em>

She had her hair loose and falling naturally and she was wearing her comfortable jeans and a sweatshirt and tennis shoes. She wanted to look like 'the girl next door' when she approached Chuck and asked him to join her for lunch in the embassy canteen. She wanted to rekindle their friendship before she began trying to win back his trust and love.

He loved her, of that she was certain, but he didn't like her much and she could understand that. The revelation that she was 'implanted' had shaken him more than she would have expected. Of course, his revelation about SARA had rattled her cage, too.

Checking herself out one more time, she left her quarters and walked down the hallway and knocked on Chuck's door.

And knocked and knocked.

Frustrated, she pulled out her cell and speed dialed his number. He was number 4 on her list. She'd restore his number to its rightful spot at #1 later. It went to voice mail after ringing 4 times.

"Chuck?" She called his name through the thick oak door and then put her ear to it but could hear nothing. Keeping her ear to the door, she speed dialed his number again and listened for the ring tone he had on his phone 'especially' for her. She heard a standard cell ring tone and sighed. He was there but 'she wasn't' – on his phone any more.

* * *

><p>SARA had heard Samantha Walker knocking on the door. According to her countdown array, Chuck still had 7.3 minutes to sleep as per his request and she saw no reason to wake him any earlier. He was tired, his sugar level was low, and he needed to rest and then ingest calories.<p>

When his cell rang again, SARA 'took him over', gently got out of bed and walked over to the desk, being very careful not to awaken him.

"Hello?" It wasn't hard to feign weariness in his voice. It was there.

"Chuck? Were you asleep?"

"Um, yeah. What's up?" His voice was scratchy from being asleep.

"I wondered if you wanted to join me for lunch in the canteen? Say 20 minutes?"

"Yeah, that's good. Make it 30 minutes. I need to shower and wake up. I'll see you there, Sam."

SARA could hear the sigh when 'Chuck' had called her 'Sam' and disconnected the call.

'_Good. How does it feel, Samantha. You hurt him. You hurt the host when he was most vulnerable. You will have to work very hard to get past me!'_

She checked the array and then curled back up on the bed. Four minutes and 20 seconds. Let him sleep.

Next: Walker on 'probation', Chuck flies to Baltimore, Casey and Shaw duke it out over living arrangements. The Team, minus Chuck, flies to Philadelphia and settles in.


	13. Space and Time

Letting Go – by Oldest Man

* * *

><p>Chapter 13<p>

Her soft voice whisked sleep away and he opened his eyes expecting to see…

_'Chuck, I hope you slept well. Samantha Walker called and invited you to lunch. You slept for 120 minutes and you have 29 minutes to prepare to meet Samantha Walker in the embassy canteen. Please remember to ingest 15% more calories than normal. Foods high in carbs, deserts and fresh fruits are beneficial in the short run.'_

'Thanks, SARA. I feel very refreshed. Um, how do you know about the lun – oh, you took a call for me? Cool. I have my own organic answering machine. Thank you for letting me sleep. I really needed it.'

_'You are welcome. Twenty-eight minutes, Chuck. Move your ass!'_

'You spend too much time listening to Colonel Casey.'

_'Perhaps you should spend more time doing so, moron. He has only your best interests at heart despite what you think.'_

'He was going to kill me in Burbank.'

_'He was following orders. You follow orders, too. If following orders makes him a 'bad' person, then, by definition and the principal of commonality, you are a 'bad' person also and yet I know that is not true. Chew on that for a while. Chew quickly, Chuck. You have twenty-six minutes until you must meet Agent Walker.'_

'I don't know why I even bother arguing with you.' He sighed mentally.

_'Either do I.'_ She always had the final word.

* * *

><p>Embassy Canteen<p>

It was inevitable. He knew it and she knew it. Sarah wanted to have the, in her mind, long-overdue post mission 'talk'. It was the last thing he wanted to do – talk with her about them – meaning Sam and Shaw.

He kept deflecting any comments, talking instead about possible postings and how they were going to handle being partners when she never really accepted the fact that he was an agent.

"Chuck, that's not fair! I know you're an agent now. Casey has filled me in on some of your missions. I don't know why you don't believe me."

He finished eating and SARA gently reminded him of his need for _'more calories'_. Walker was going on and on about things he wasn't even courteous enough to listen to and instead he just excused himself and walked back to the serving line and selected a few more items based on SARA's nagging in his mental ear.

Sarah was rapidly becoming frustrated with the wall he'd built around himself, ignoring the same kind of walls she'd built around herself in Burbank before Chuck had taken the 2.0 download.

She decided to be honest with him and play to his sense of honor and trust. He came back and sat down across from her and started eating again.

"Chuck, you have to understand the situation. You were an absolute disaster as an agent and I was still hurting from Prague and when Beckman offered me the assignment I jumped at it to protect you – and, I finally realized over the past days - to protect _us_. My professional pride was hurt and your very presence hurt me so much…"

"Fine. I can understand that, Samantha, but what I can't accept is the fact that you lied to me by omission, by not trusting me to understand and to have your back even though you were leaving. The thing with Hannah was just that – a thing, a momentary lapse of judgment but you were so damned distant and then you practically jumped Shaw's bones…after what we'd planned. That still hurts."

Sarah sighed heavily as if expelling all the air in her lungs would bring clarity to the situation. She'd explained everything she could and still he…

"Chuck, I had my orders. I followed them. Don't punish me for being a professional, please don't." She would _not_ cry. She wouldn't.

"I forgive you, Samantha. I understand that my reaction to your relationship with Shaw was a critical factor as was your behavior towards me. I understand and I forgive you."

He stood and walked away, planning on returning to his quarters. He didn't feel better. He'd just done the 'right' thing to make _her_ feel better and to get SARA off his ass.

"Chuck! Where are you going? I thought…"

"I said 'I forgive you', Samantha, and I do. I just need some time…"

"How much time, Chuck? The thing with Shaw…"

He looked at her and felt a frisson of guilt flow through him but he had to take a stand. He wasn't ready for anything more right now. He had his own issues to manage and resolve.

"Eight months, Samantha, eight months of wondering if I'd ever get over you. Eight months! That doesn't go away just because I've forgiven you. I still love you, Samantha, but right now, right now, I don't like you very damned much."

"Then let's try and work this out. Stay and be with me when you're not on missions. We can still be together, Chuck, just like we planned before you took the 2.0 download. Please don't turn away, Chuck!"

"Forgiveness doesn't mean everything's fine and dandy and that we can all just go back to the way you want it. I can't do that right now, Samantha. I need some time and some space. That's why I insisted on separate quarters at our next posting even though we're partners. I should have clarified that for you and all the others who seem to think my personal life is their business: _we're work partners_. I'm not shutting you out, I'm closing me in. Give me time or risk losing any chance at all of anything more than what it is right now."

* * *

><p>He walked away and started back to his quarters but Casey intercepted him with instructions to contact General Beckman immediately.<p>

"Any idea what the old girl wants this time? I've been good. The mission was a total success. I've even made nice with Eve and Samantha. What's up?"

"I don't know. She gave me an order and now I've carried it out. If it's not too much trouble, could you please ask the general to include the team leader in future conferences?"

Casey was pissed but not at Bartowski. 'He's only following his orders. He can't pick and choose and I know he'll do what's best for the team. I just hope Beckman realizes how difficult this past week has been for him'

* * *

><p>Beckman's instructions were clear and concise. He was to return immediately to NSA Headquarters. He was not to discuss this with his team. They would be briefed on a need-to-know basis and would return directly to Philadelphia to settle in and become familiar with the new Castle.<p>

"Ah, General, Colonel Casey is the team leader. Shouldn't he…"

"Agent Bartowski, you've received your instructions. I will handle any problems with the Colonel or any of your other team mates. I'll expect you in my office tomorrow morning. Your travel package can be picked up immediately at the embassy. Have a good flight."

* * *

><p>A Marine guard drove Chuck to the airport and escorted him to his terminal. Neither said a word. Chuck passed through the diplomatic customs checks and boarded a commercial flight to the US and Baltimore-Washington International.<p>

He spent most of the flight asleep but when he was awake, he stared out the window at the clouds or the Atlantic Ocean far below.

SARA loved to fly. The clouds and ocean below were a real thrill for her. She seemed to have an affinity for clouds and Chuck taught her the 'find the shapes' in the clouds game and delighted in her complex findings.

_'That cloud formation looks like Mrs. Tattinger, your fourth grade teacher, Chuck. See the chin, the wattles hanging on her neck?'_

Chuck couldn't remember anything about elementary school but had SARA rooted around in his long-term memories and found subject after subject. Bored, he gently suggested that he needed a nap to be fresh for the inquisition that awaited him at NSA HQ and SARA relented and played the game herself.

"Please wake me when the pilot announces our arrival time, okay? Or if the flight attendant comes by with a meal."

* * *

><p>NSA Headquarters<br>FT Meade, MD

Chuck was advised that the general was 'in conference' and would be with him 'momentarily'. That had been an hour ago and he was never able to sit still for that long and so he told the general's admin assistant that he was going for a walk after the long flight and to text him when the general was ready for him.

In reality, he was bored out of his gourd and the general's waiting area didn't even sport a newspaper or a two-year old magazine collection.

He wasn't even 20 feet from the office when his cell rang and it was the general. "Bartowski, get in here. I don't like to be kept waiting."

There were no pleasantries and Chuck didn't try to be more than civil. This was Beckman's version of PMS and she was curt and terse.

"Your assignment is to map out the organizational structure of the Pacifico drug cartel and eliminate as many of its top echelon members as possible. Your NSA team will be in support but not in direct contact. You will be 'supervising' a team of experienced DEA agents as a cover."

"How can Casey and the others support me but not be in direct contact?"

"Your DEA team will identify cartel members and eliminate them. The NSA team will provide any logistical support you may require. Your travel package is ready and I expect you back here within 60 days, Agent Bartowski. A small updated download is scheduled for later this morning. "

Chuck knew he'd been dismissed and stood to leave when Beckman said, "Oh, Chuck, you did well in the Faroes and Agent Shaw's report was very flattering and complementary. I'll expect you for lunch at 1PM. My treat."

He just smiled and acknowledged her comments with a nod and left the office before something equally disastrous raised its ugly head and bit him in the fundament.

He absorbed the small download with no ill effects. SARA said 'it tickled'.

* * *

><p>Lunch was a purely social affair and then the General had Chuck driven to the travel office. He was airborne within an hour but his destination was not Mexico but rather Camp Pendleton in California. Someone had decided that Chuck 'needed' to go through the Marine sniper course.<p>

After 7 days of pure hell, he boarded a flight in San Diego to meet up with his DEA team in Mexico.

* * *

><p><em>'That was an interesting experience, Chuck. I am glad those MREs are high in calories. Your weight loss was negligible and I enjoyed your physical activities. It must be nice to feel the sweat coursing off your body and the insects nipping at you. I envy you, Chuck. Your world is so replete with sensations. I especially enjoyed the mathematical precision required to correctly hit the targets. Thank you for sharing.'<em>

'You're kidding, right? Sand fleas, heavy packs, disgusting Meals Rejected by Everyone, smothering ghillie suits, lying in cow pastures or sand dunes for hours at a time to advance a few meters. Yeah, replete with sensations I could do without.'

_'Sarcasm?'_

'Yes. You're getting pretty good at detecting it.'

After several moments he smiled. He had the last word for once.

_'Thank you for the complement, Chuck. I shall endeavor to persevere in mastering all the subtle nuances of your cluttered and non-linear thought processes.'_

He swore he heard her laugh.


	14. Snake in the Grass

A little long but I'm taking a short vacation break to do some real work. Since only 122 of you read the last chapter I guess it won't be missed.

* * *

><p>Letting Go – by Oldest Man<p>

Chapter 14  
>Philadelphia<p>

The new Castle facility was bigger, newer, fancier and just as suffocating as the one in Burbank had been. She fussed with Casey about little things. Stupid things. Things that she'd have ignored 6 months ago but now, for some reason, these little things infuriated her beyond belief.

She knew why but wouldn't admit it, even to herself for all the tea in China. She missed him. This cavernous facility was just another underground tomb without him to bring life to it.

Three weeks. They hadn't had a word of contact in _three _weeks. Team Intersect had run three missions, what Casey told her that Chuck referred to as 'vanilla missions', without a hitch until the last one. Shaw took a 9mm in the thigh and was laid up in her palatial apartment over on Rittenhouse Square where the 'Main Line' people had their apartments.

He told her in London that he needed 'time and space' and she almost laughed sadly to herself. Two months would surely be enough time. And the distance from wherever he was to where she was – certainly that qualified as enough space, as in distance.

They hadn't had any contact in more than three weeks even though Team Intersect was his logistical support. The general had told them that his 'unique' talents were needed in support of another agency operation. That was all they'd been told. Questions were not invited or expected. We had our orders and were expected to simply nod and leave. Anything more was 'unprofessional'.

Casey finally called Beckman and flat out demanded a mission timeline and was told to expect his return in about 60 days unless 'something happened' and then it would be extended as the operation required.

* * *

><p>Mexico<br>Estacio San Gabriel

Chuck awoke feeling every single one of his 66 years. The ground was littered with small rocks, bat shite and God knew what else but the little cave provided shelter for him and his injured partner. Well, not injured exactly. Bitten.

He shivered in the cool mountain morning air and crawled outside to do a 360-look around and drain the morning lizard. It was quiet up here in the mountains although he knew that the small estacio that they'd 'visited' the previous afternoon was probably an anthill of activity. He took out his binoculars and scanned the terrain, looking for anything or any_one_.

Satisfied with the view and lack of company, he tore open an MRE, fiddled with the contents and activated the self-heating unit. Pork slices. Oh, joy in the morning. He wolfed his food down and let his mind wander to enable him to ignore the taste.

His flight from San Diego to his Mexican destination had been crowded with tourists and nationals returning home. He walked out of the terminal looking for a ride. He was supposed to be met by a white Chevy Blazer and his temporary partner for the operation.

"Chuckles!" He was grabbed from behind and spun around and then kissed like he'd never been kissed before. It was hot, open-mouthed and her tongue slithered between his lips several times before she pulled his bottom lip between hers and sucked on it.

He pushed the woman away but he knew she'd be on him again in seconds.

"Carina! Wow, that was not quite the welcome I was expecting but I'm not complaining. Look at you! Tanned, hair longer than I remembered and horny as usual. So you're my new partner?"

SARA was uncharacteristically quiet and that piqued his curiosity.

'SARA, you okay?' His thought was laced with genuine concern.

_'Yeah, Chuck, just a little out of breath from being assaulted by all your memories of Carina Hansen-Miller is all. I thought…'_

'Good. As long as you're okay, please pay close attention to her eyes. She lies but her eyes don't. And listen to her voice. This should be an interesting conversation to say the least.'

Carina tried for another lip-lock but he turned his face and she got his ear instead. Undaunted, she washed it out with her tongue and then stepped back, giggling.

"Yeah, Chuckles, I'm the new Sarah. I'm the improved model, though. I don't cheat on you and then rip your heart out and run off with some petrified forest relic."

"Good. The old one had too many faults and quirks that I could never handle despite how I felt. Now, what's our cover?"

"Thought you'd never ask, _husband._ We're separated and you've come down here to Old Mexico to try and win me back. Shouldn't be too difficult. I remember the motel in Malibu, Chuck. Best damned sex of my life. The truck's over there behind the military checkpoint but I've greased some palms and so we're good to go."

_'She's telling the truth. She bribed the soldiers at the checkpoint to allow you to pass. You're supposedly smuggling in some stuff for her that's on the contraband list. And she really believes it was the best sex of her life. Details, Chuck, I want details.'_

'No. A gentleman does not kiss and tell, SARA. Besides, all you have to do is peek behind the partition and you'll probably find my very colorful memories. Just give it a rest for now, okay? I need to concentrate.'

He walked across the asphalt parking lot to the old topless Chevy Blazer that Carina drove. Chuck suddenly looked very smug and self-assured and Carina just _had_ to ask him about it.

"What's the look for, Chuck? You look so smug…"

_'Chuck! How did she do that? Her legs are…'_

"I was just remembering that thing you did with your legs, Carina, when I was…"

"Yeah…first time and the last time I tried it."

"You weren't hurt, were you?" His concern was real. He really, really liked Carina and the thought of hurting her made him feel bad.

"No! Oh, Jesus, all that moaning and whimpering…not from pain, Chuck. And as for it being the last time…didn't want to sully the memory."

Now Chuck really looked smug and self-satisfied. Carina looked at him across the hood of the Blazer and asked the one question that had been on her mind since she was told just who was 'augmenting' the operation.

"Chuck, you and Sarah?" She had to know. Walker was her best friend. Probably her only real friend.

"Non-starter. She went off with that other agent and he asked her to marry him."

"Shaw? How's that working out for her?"

"He lost his head over her."

"I'm sorry, Chuck. I know how you felt. Maybe it's for the best. She treated you like crap even after making all those 'relationship noises'. I guess she was handling you. I thought it was real, Chuck. I really did."

"So did I. For three years I hung on every word, cherished every moment we spent together and then Shaw shows up and she tells him her _real_ name. Hell, I couldn't even get her to tell me her cover middle name, for God's sake."

"Well, I for one am damned glad. You're in my sights Agent Charles Bartowski. And I'm a damned good shot."

She laughed at how quickly he lost his air of certainty and how red his face got. She was definitely looking forward to time with Chuck.

"Chuck, you knew her real name, right? Jenny. Jenny Burton."

"Nope. Her real name was Sam. Samantha. Jenny Burton was her cover within the cover name. Hell, she even lied to Bryce."

Shaking his head to clear it of the past and to concentrate on the present, he crawled back into the small cave, really a broken crevice in the rock face, and checked on Carina.

"Hey, sweetums, feel like taking a walk? We need to get to the Blazer and get back to your place. Can you do it for me, Carina?"

He felt her brow and checked on her arm. It was still swollen and the redness was slowly darkening. The area around the wound was turning black except the cuts he'd made over each of the punctures. They were red and swollen.

_'Chuck, you have to move her and get her to a hospital. Take the chance, Chuck. She's your partner.'_

'Don't you dare tell me what I have to do. I know her condition and I know how close it's going to be.'

It was six miles over rocky terrain to the hide site where they'd hidden the farm truck. Getting down from the hills was going to be a problem. Once they were on relatively flat terrain, he'd make better time. All they had to do was avoid people and the cartel patrols. They couldn't trust the Federales either.

He went through his pack and dumped everything except the first aid kit, rations and water. He did the same thing with Carina's pack. He stuffed all the leftovers into one pack and covered it with rocks in the back of the crevice. He almost laughed when he thought about some archeologist in a thousand years making an 'historic find'.

He slipped the pack on, tightened the straps and then forced Carina awake enough to take two antibiotic pills and drink an entire bottle of water. It took forever but she finally finished the 8 ounce bottle.

Chuck wrapped her tightly in her camouflaged poncho liner and shifted her up onto his lap and finally into his arms. He cradled her by holding on to his pack straps and stood up carefully.

'Won't be too bad, SARA. We should make it by sundown easily. She'll be in hospital in 10 hours and safe. Talk to me, SARA. Keep me focused.'

'_Okay. I want to know what is going on between you and Carina.'_

For the next 7 hours Chuck mentally rambled on about how he first met Carina, subsequent meetings, the extent of her knowledge of the Intersect (none) and, of course, the one time they'd made love in her motel room when she'd faked a trouble call to the Buy More.

They were overdue but the team knew that they'd do no good if they started searching along the two spies' probable route. It was all up to him to get her home safely and into the hands of competent medical help.

* * *

><p>Flashback<p>

It had taken them most of the daylight hours to make their approach down the small ridge overlooking the Estancio San Gabriel to the flatlands that bordered the estate. Two senior members of the Sinoloa Cartel were meeting with representatives of several North American drug gangs. Carina's snitches were very reliable. It was too good to pass up.

They were inching their way across the rocky field to set up at the edge of an irrigation ditch. It was hot and the camouflaged Ghilley suits were stifling. They were only 20 yards from their goal when it happened.

Chuck heard the warning rattle and saw the coiled rattlesnake rear back its head and prepare to strike Carina's face. He whipped out his knife but his panicky throw did nothing but deflect the snake's aim from her beautiful face to her forearm.

Carina stifled a scream as the snake prepared to strike again but Chuck shot it with a silenced .22 caliber pistol he'd finally managed to unlimber from it's holster that had worked its way under him during the 300 yard crawl.

Carina rolled over on her back and frantically unbuttoned her sleeve after ripping off her camouflage cover. Her arm was already beginning to ache and she was hyperventilating. She hated snakes and was certain she was going to die.

Chuck grabbed her arm and dragged her to her feet and began running and dragging her to the drainage ditch wall and relative safety. Once there he took off his pack and pulled out a trank pistol and shot her twice. She looked at him in shock and then her eyes rolled up into the back of her head and she slumped further down the wall.

'_Chuck! You shot her!'_

'Tranquilizer darts. She was going to go into shock in a couple of minutes and besides she wouldn't want to be awake for this.'

Chuck took her K-Bar from its sheath. His was somewhere on the scrubby field behind them. He put a tight tourniquet on her arm made from her belt and then cut across the punctures, took a deep breath and began sucking the venom and blood from the cut he'd made. Every few seconds he'd spit, rinse out his mouth and spit and then start sucking again. His mouth was tingling and he couldn't feel his lips.

'_Chuck, you must elevate her feet and keep her warm.'_

'Nope. I've got to get her to a safe place so I can take out the targets and then go back for her. Someplace high up so I can see anyone coming across the plain.'

He threw her over his shoulder and took off running towards the foothills a few thousand yards away. The sun would be in the eyes of anyone looking out that way so he felt comfortable running.

He'd managed to find a cave-like opening in the rock face and had pulled her in after pulling out some brush and rocks. He wrapped her in a survival blanket and left all his water but one canteen for her as well as the first aid kit.

He hoped she wouldn't think he'd abandoned her.

He set a blistering pace and made it back to the ditch wall and set up for his mission. 'I should have just had us walk to the damned ditch instead of that silly Marine Recon approach.'

Chuck set up the Barrett and calibrated the scope, used a laser device to determine the range and then set in behind the weapon and waited for the guests of honor to arrive. 400 yards. A piece of cake.

End Flashback

* * *

><p>NSA Headquarters<br>FT Meade, MD

"Go ahead with your report, Agent Bartowski." General Beckman, Colonel Casey and Agent Shaw were sitting around the speakerphone waiting for the report.

"Agent Hansen-Miller is in the hospital recovering from a snakebite. She's going to be fine. The Sinaloa Cartel is officially at war with Los Negros Cartel. The Sinoloans lost their Jefe and a few others a few nights ago to a raid by Los Negros Cartel forces. So sad."

Beckman chuckled and then looked over some notes. He shouldn't operate alone.

"Agent Bartowski, I'm sending Agents Walker and Shaw to back you up. Excellent work, Charles. The first crack in the dam."

"General, I don't need backup. The next two weeks will be spent developing more targets so the DEA team is more than sufficient until Agent Hansen-Miller gets back on her feet. I'd waste too much time breaking them in and integrating them into the team. This isn't an 'agency' operation, General. You know that."

"I'll defer to your judgment _this_ time, Agent, but if Miller's not back in harness in two weeks, we will add additional agents to the team. Is that understood?"

"Ye…"

There was a delay of a minute, then two minutes.

"General, I think the line's dead. Sat phones are iffy at best down there. He probably lost line-of-sight on the satellite." He knew what Bartowski had done. He'd ended the conversation mid-sentence by simply moving the sat phone antenna a few inches so that it lost the satellite link.

"Is that what you think happened? I think he figured he'd better end the conversation before I gave him another order he didn't like…that's what I'd have done in his place."

Shaw snickered and Casey tried not to smile. The old girl was full of surprises sometimes.

* * *

><p>When Casey told Agent Walker about the phone call she was highly pissed.<p>

"Damn it, Casey, he shouldn't be down there without backup and certainly not without someone who knows about you-know-what. He definitely shouldn't be around Carina. You know what she's like. She'll tear his heart out after she's finished with him."

"Sounds like someone else I know."

Walker growled something obscene at Casey and stomped off to the gym. She was pissed and figured a few hours on the heavy bag and a series of exercises would purge her angry energy.


	15. The Middle Begins to Unravel

A/N: It was far too nice a day to [gasp] work so I sat around drinking beer and watching the local hunnies repair nets and dry fish. Whoopee.

Tomorrow I will fix the roof, restring the lawn chairs and replace the cracked tile in the foyer...unless it's sunny or rains. Then it's hammock time.

OM

* * *

><p>Letting Go – by Oldest Man<p>

Chapter 15

Her hospital stay had been shortened by the simple expedient of Carina calling Chuck to 'come get me'. He smiled as he drove the 16 miles to the next biggest town that had the area's only hospital that was fully staffed. The smaller towns had dispensaries but rarely a full-time physician.

Chuck paid her bill in cash and walked down the hallway to the ward she was in. He hadn't been to see her since she'd been pronounced 'stable and recovering'. He spent the previous two nights aggravating the situation between Los Negros cartel forces, the Sinaloa cartel and the local constabulary. If it hadn't been for the worry for Carina nagging at him, it would have been the most fun he'd had in years.

He'd torched a Los Negros warehouse full of packaged marijuana just before it was to be shipped north to the Estados Unidos.

A few hours later, in 'retaliation', the banker for the Sinoloa cartel was 'forced' to turn over the offshore account information and nerds from Los Negros transferred out all the cash to an unknown destination – the special DEA account for such operations.

The banker was never found. Sources reported that he fled the country along with untold millions of the cartel's money.

Carina was sitting on the edge of the bed wearing the shorts and tank top he'd left for her when he visited. She'd been asleep so he had left her clothes and slipped out.

She was having trouble tying her sneaker laces so he knelt down and tied them for her. He looked up at her and frowned.

"Hey, why the tears? Are you in pain? Is there something else wrong?"

She smiled through her tears and shook her head. "No, Chuck. Everything's perfect. Let's get out of here. I need to soak my arm in hot water several times a day and I might as well take a decent bath at the same time. Will you help me bandage the arm again after I'm done?"

"Sure. I'll even wash your hair for you since you're a cripple. You still use that Yuppie Tangerine stuff, right?"

He knew she did. He'd buried his face in her hair several times while taking a break from his near-frantic 6 mile run to get her to the camouflaged Blazer left in their hide site. He'd been so afraid that he'd get her to safety too late and he'd lost his rigid self-control on a few occasions when he'd 'run out of steam' on his run.

"You remembered! I bought it in Burbank and I only used it that one time when you and I…well, you remembered, that's the important thing, Chuck."

He pulled her into a warm embrace and whispered that he remembered everything about her, even things she didn't want him to know. She pulled back and stared up at him with a quizzical look on her face but he just smiled and kissed the tip of her nose.

"C'mon. I need you to report in to Beckman so she doesn't send down the Vagina Brigade to 'augment' us. I told her you'd be in recovery for at least 10 days so don't push things, babe. Just let her know you're back in the game, okay?"

"What the hell is the 'Vagina Brigade', Chuck?" From the look on his face when he said it, it was not something he looked forward to.

"Shaw and Walker." He forgot that Carina didn't know that Daniel was dead and that his wife, Eve, was now on the team.

Her deep chuckle made him smile without thinking. If someone were to have catalogued Chuck's smiles it would rank slightly higher than the one he gave Jewel Staite when he met her in San Diego.

"Chuck, I'm sure the Log doesn't have a…a woo-hoo," she said, dryly.

"No, but I'm fairly certain his wife does." His answer was rendered with the same dry voice as were most of his one-liners and Carina opened her mouth several times before anything but a 'Wi' sound emerged.

"Gotcha!"

* * *

><p>Estacio Santa Marta<br>Mexico

The DEA-front cattle ranch was actually a legitimate operation that Carina had 'managed' for nearly 18 months. It was profitable and the 'staff' were mostly local DEA employees who were paid enough to be considered trustworthy enough not to blab about the owner's 'other job'.

He scooped her up out of the Blazer and up onto the verandah and then into the large adobe and timber house that was the owner's quarters. He smiled at the housekeeper and told her that 'senora Miller was not to be disturbed except for meals' and then carried his giggling burden back to her bedroom and deposited her gently on her bed.

"Ring for Maria when you're hungry or need help in the bath, Carina. I have to report your return to duty to Beckman before she dispatches the Brigade."

"But I thought _you_ were going to help me, remember?"

"Duty first. I won't be long. Sleep, sweetie. You've had a rough 3 days. Maybe I'll have news of our next assignment when you wake up."

Chuck left her to her own devices and walked out onto the verandah and hooked up the secure sat phone and called Beckman.

* * *

><p>"Agent Bartowski, you've been busy I hear." She'd seen the DEA report on the bank transfers and the 'surrender' of the cartel banker to the Mexican authorities.<p>

"Yes, ma'am. Agent Miller is back from the hospital and we're operational as a team again, General." He waited for the recall order or something else to spoil the day.

"You two have established quite the gestalt, haven't you? Most agents don't 'gel' for months. So, on to business. You'll continue to use Estacio Santa Maria as your operational base. You and Agent Miller will continue to stir up trouble between the cartels throughout the region. Any problems with that, Agent Bartowski?"

"None. Rules of engagement?" He meant had his basic brief been changed by politics.

"No, Charles. You still get to be a loose cannon on deck. Email me your next series of moves. You might consider taking a few days in Burbank. Introduce your 'wife' to your sister and reconnect. Consider yourselves on leave for the next week."

"How long do you anticipate this assignment will last, General?" He had a feeling about things, especially if Beckman wanted him to introduce Carina to Ellie.

"Until further notice. Enjoy your holiday, Agent Bartowski. Consider it as a reward for a job well done."

Chuck was confused. He was NSA not DEA. This was supposed to be a 60-day mission not 'undefined'.

"What about my team, General? Will they be joining us here in sunny Mexico?"

"Shaw will be returning to her normal duties. Casey is going to get kicked upstairs to operations management. He'll be your liaison as soon as he's comfortable in his new role. Agent Walker is being released to the CIA and will be the new Deputy Chief of Station in Lebanon. She's earned it and she's been in the field 8 long years."

"Understood." He wasn't sure whether Casey was going to appreciate his being sidelined but he knew Walker would appreciate her new career advancement. He certainly was satisfied.

He disconnected the sat phone and secured it and then wandered back to Carina's room. They had things to discuss and plan. Specifically, they had a trip to Burbank to meet her new in-laws.

* * *

><p>She was lying on the bed, still dressed. She propped herself up on one elbow and looked at him. She'd been crying again and he wondered if she had any pain meds she was supposed to be taking.<p>

"Hello, Mrs. Bartowski." He waited for it. He waited for her reaction but either she was ignoring his greeting or she was thinking about the proper response or whatever else it was that made her cry - twice. Either way, it bothered him.

Every second that passed without some acknowledgment increased his irritation until finally he just turned and walked down the hallway to his own room.

He pulled a Casey. He found a certain comforting nothingness when he cleaned his weapons. The big Barrett took the most time but then again it was the more complex of his three personal weapons.

'_Chuck, what is wrong? You seem – depressed. Are you upset about losing your team? I know how close you and the Colonel had become over the years. You cannot hide your sadness from me. Talk to me, Chuck.'_

'I don't exactly know why I'm sad, SARA. I guess I expected more of a reaction out of Carina. She's obviously got a lot on her mind. She started to cry at the hospital and was crying when I came back from talking with Beckman.'

'_But what about losing Team Intersect? Perhaps, deep down, the loss of Sarah Walker's companionship has affected you. After all, you told her that you loved her but just didn't like her any more. I see the distinction.'_

'I may have stretched the truth there. I'm not sure about things. I've always felt something more than 'like' for Carina. Maybe…maybe that's it. I don't know. Look, just do whatever it is you do when you're not bugging me, okay. I just need a little time.'

'_And distance? You can't ever get away from me, Chuck.' _It was her attempt at humor and he mentally chuckled in appreciation of her efforts.

He was satisfied that his weapons would pass a 'Casey', his term for a rigorous inspection complete with snarky comments. He decided to ask Carina if he could clean hers as well. Actually, if was an excuse to check on her. He'd been working diligently for almost two hours.

Her door was open but she appeared to be asleep. Her eyes were puffy so he knew she'd been crying again. He wanted to help her, to make her feel better but he had no idea what to do.

He found her pistols where he'd left them when he returned from the hospital and was walking quietly across the large room when she woke up and saw him.

He saw her brief smile that changed into a slight frown. _'This has got to stop, now. We're partners whether she likes it or not. Orders. No room for discussion, just obedience.'_

"I – I was just going to clean these for you. I didn't get a chance to do it before and I've got the time."

"Thanks," she answered in a small voice. Her voice sounded raspy, probably from crying.

"Carina, is there…what's wrong, Carina? You've been moody and crying since I picked you up from the hospital. Are you in pain? Talk to me."

If he thought Walker had a hair-trigger temper, Carina's was light years faster.

"Talk to you? Why? What good would it do? I don't appreciate being teased, 'Mr. Bartowski'. I thought maybe you and I, we…oh, just get out!"

"I came earlier to tell you that my mission here is…"

"Over. I get it. And you just thought 'what the hell, let's have a quickie for old times' sake, right? How could you, Chuck. You were so tender and caring before and now…"

"I came earlier to tell you that my mission here has been extended indefinitely. Beckman's taken the team apart and reassigned them. Casey's going into operations and he's our control. That's all I came to say, Carina. I suppose 'Mrs. Bartowski' was inappropriate given that you're Hansen-Miller now. Sorry. I'll clean these up and leave them outside your room. Sorry to have disturbed you."

He left and closed the door and walked back to his room. Women! He'd never figure them out in a bazillion years. Never.

* * *

><p>He felt frustrated and wanted to do something other than sit around waiting for Carina to be healthy enough for another extended mission. He pulled out a satellite map and started plotting known cartel businesses and residences. It was something to do.<p>

The housekeeper, Maria, knocked at the open door and told him that 'the senora needs your help'. Her icy glare and stiff body language said more than she'd muttered. He was in trouble with 'la senora'.

Her door was open but the bathroom door was closed. The housekeeper had made the bed and he saw an untouched meal tray sitting on the nightstand beside the bed. Apparently he wasn't included in the meal service any longer.

"Carina, it's Chuck. Maria said you needed help?" He stood at the bathroom door and waited for her response.

"Come in. I'm decent. I just need your help bandaging the arm. It won't take but a moment of your precious time, Agent Bartowski."

Chuck opened the door and stepped in. The room was warm and damp from her bath and she was sitting on a vanity bench in a white terrycloth towel. Her medical kit was open on the vanity table.

He looked at the stitches along her arm. "The cuts are healing nicely. Sorry about the length but I was freaking out and figured…never mind." He applied the topical antibiotic cream and covered it with a piece of gauze and then began rolling a gauze bandage around her wrist and up to the elbow.

"Not too tight, is it?" Chuck was holding her small hand in his large one and checking the nail beds for the pink color he was trained to look for. He glanced up at her face and saw tears brimming around her eyes. Shit!

"Did I hurt you?" She shook her head and pulled her hand away. "I need you to give me another shot, if you don't mind. Maria freaks out at the sight of blood and runs at the sight of a needle."

"Needles…brrr." He took the disposable syringe kit and removed the needle and drew in the proper amount of the drug she needed to take for the next three days. He got an alcohol wipe from the kit and wiped down her arm and –

"The buttocks, Agent Bartowski. It needs to go deep into the muscle. I can't do it myself or I wouldn't have asked for you help." Her tone was cold and clipped and she looked anywhere but at him.

He lifts the edge of the terrycloth wrap and bares her buttock and then stops, unmoving and totally unaware of anything except the tiny and delicately filigreed heart tattoo with 'Chuck' in its center.

He turns her until the other buttock is exposed, wipes it down with the alcohol wipe, injects the drug and then drops the terrycloth wrap and disposes of the syringe and wipe and replaces the vial in its case.

He kneels down and wraps his arms around her from behind and just holds her.

"How long?"

"Since Burbank. After a year I gave up. I married a man I didn't love and it lasted 3 whole months. And then I met up with you again and had to listen to that rambling declaration of love to a woman who couldn't have cared less and then I left again. I know it was stupid and self-destructive but somehow that tattoo made it easier."

"I had no idea…"

"I know that. To you it was great sex but to me, especially after you gave me your trust and that diamond, it was more, Chuck. I would have stayed but I was pulled back to DC and told bluntly to 'stay the hell away from Chuck Bartowski' or face consequences. I'm here because the second time…"

"I don't think you have to worry about consequences any longer, Carina. Beckman wouldn't have sent me here unless, in some weird and distorted way, she approved. I'm supposed to introduce you to my sister next week, Mrs. Bartowski. We're on leave for 10 days and I think her suggestion to visit Burbank together was more along the lines of an order."

* * *

><p>NSA Headquarters<br>FT Meade, MD

Casey just grunted and nodded when he read his new orders. It was bound to happen someday and he was getting too long in the tooth to stay a field agent forever. At least he could live vicariously through the antics of his favorite moron, God help him.

Shaw was thrilled to be going back to her old assignment. She didn't think she was cut out for teamwork. She'd criticized the others ruthlessly and hadn't won over any hearts and minds. 'Implanteds' were always suspect. Still, she'd miss a certain Colonel even if he was the first of his kind to walk upright.

Sarah Walker was stone cold indifferent. She was on a career path that would take her to the top floor of Langley. Her cap was set for DC-OPS…the Director of Covert Operations and she meant to have it. Her only regret was that she'd have to wait until Chuck either screwed up and got thrown out or hurt and then she'd have him. She was patient. She was confident.

She was heartbroken – but never let it show. Her meeting with Beckman had been tense and she could tell that the General was uneasy, expecting her to attempt mayhem. But she held herself in check.

Until she got back to her quarters and then she turned the shower on and crawled into corner of the stall and cried.


	16. Code Black in Burbank

Letting Go – by Oldest Man

Chapter 16

They spent 5 days in Burbank and then it all fell apart. While they were in Burbank he'd been totally up-front with his sister and Devon.

"Ellie, I work for the government doing stuff I can't talk about. Carina is DEA and she does stuff she can't talk about. We work and live together in Mexico at a place we can't tell you about. We're on leave for a while and then we're going back home."

Devon caught Chuck's eye and gave him a smirk like 'yeah, sure, Chuck, I know the truth' but thankfully he said nothing. He was a little bit afraid of his brother in law and scared to death of his girlfriend. She was sexy as hell but he knew that anyone Chuck worked with was a stone cold killer – just as he feared his brother in law was becoming.

The few times he'd been alone with Ellie she'd opened up with a barrage of questions and demanded answers. His responses were inaccurate, incomplete and drove her nuts so she finally stopped asking.

What concerned _him_ was the one time Carina was alone with Ellie. They went shopping at the Mall and were gone for hours and hadn't purchased a thing and when they'd returned she gave him the saddest smile he'd ever seen on her face.

* * *

><p>They stayed at a motel not far from Echo Park and the instant they got back to their room, she told him bluntly that she was not Sarah Walker and she would never screw him over for the job. She went into the bathroom and slammed the door.<p>

'Never in a bazillion years', thought Chuck. Women were such a mystery to him.

_'Chuck, you need to talk with Carina. She is good for you and you keep giving her mixed signals. She is a simple girl without ulterior motives. Trust me, Chuck. She is not Sarah Walker._'

'And I suppose you know this from your vast storehouse of past human interaction?'

_'No, moron. I know because we…we talked. It was last night here in this motel and…'_

**Flashback**

Carina lay on her side in the big California King motel bed and looked at her partner sleep. She had been difficult for him to deal with in Mexico and she knew it. Loving someone who didn't love you back was something she had no experience with.

_'Do something, Carina! Don't just lie here like some Twilight vampire. Make a move!'_ she thought, urging herself on to do something to get his attention.

She moved over until she was lying against him and she pulled his arm around her and then she laid her head on his chest. She pulled up his t-shirt and then slipped her hand down the front of his loose sleep pants and…

"Chuck will have a very negative reaction to being awakened in such a manner. I know from experience."

It was his voice but something was off. For one thing, he was speaking about himself in the 3rd person. Weird.

"Wha…"

"Shh, I do not have him in a deep sleep. He needs his REM cycles for maximum performance."

"Chuck? Are you nuts?"

"I am SARA, Self-Aware-Resident-Artificial-Intelligence. Chuck calls me SARA without the 'ach'. Surely you know that Chuck has abilities that seem to be…unusual?"

"Are – are you the intersect the General briefed me on? She said to watch for symptoms of instability and mental deterioration. This sure qualifies."

SARA filled Carina in on her origin, how she and Chuck co-exist and the benefits each derives from the other.

"That's incredible! Two minds in one head? Do you control him, SARA? I don't like the thought of him being…controlled. Does…does it hurt him?"

"I would never hurt my Chuck. Without him, I am not. I only 'take control' when he is emotionally overwrought. Or when he refuses to sleep because he's worried about you. Other than that…we 'talk', strategize, and I do research. He is my friend. I am very jealous of you, Carina."

"Why?" She was having a problem wrapping her head around the fact that she and 'Chuck' were lying in bed, whispering, and that one of them wasn't human.

"He thinks about you on some level constantly. He compares you to the other woman he loved. You far exceed her performance by a factor of 10 or more. He is thinking of asking to have you replaced because you are a liability."

"Replaced? My God, why? We work well together and if he feels something for me, why send me away?" She felt something for him, a definite something. It had been like this since Malibu.

"You are weak and you make him weak as well."

Carina's tone changed and her voice got louder and louder.

"That's bullshit! I'm strong as an ox. I can outrun and outfight most men. Weak? He's got no business…"

"You would not leave him behind if it were necessary. You would stay and face extinction rather than leave him. This makes you weak. It makes him weak because concern for your safety would outweigh the success of the mission."

"That's called loyalty, you damned buncha Frankenstein programs."

'To_MAY_to, to_MAH_to. And then there are the self-termination restrictions I imposed unwittingly. You would not terminate Chuck if ordered or if he were in danger of being captured. That also makes you 'weak'."

Carina was quiet for too long and finally even a program's patience are tried.

"You are having problems coming to grips with his intentions, are you not?"

"Yes." Short, simple, to the point. SARA liked Carina because she was open and mercifully brief in any statements.

"Because he would replace you or because of whom he would replace you with?"

"Both. Wait, who is he considering replacing me with and why?"

"Samantha, of course. She would not hesitate to leave him if it ensured mission success. She would kill him without any hesitation or concern at all if he were to be captured or became a mission liability. He prefers her to you because…he doesn't love Samantha and thus would not have to have her as his primary concern should things go badly."

Carina thought about what the program, er, SARA, had said and made a decision.

"Wake him up. I want to talk to him. This has gone on long enough. I had doubts. Now, I don't. Wait, I have a question. When I was going to slip my hand down his sleep pants you said something about…"

"I said 'Chuck will have a very negative reaction to being awakened in such a manner. I know from experience'. Yes. On the trawler I needed him awake and so I reviewed male physiology and I squeezed his testicles together. Apparently the amount of force required to awaken him was considerably less than I anticipated."

Carina laughed so hard she had to bury her face in the pillow to keep from waking Chuck. The deadpan delivery and the imagined response had her in stitches.

"It was not funny to Chuck, Carina." This set her off again and finally she was laughed out. She had tears in her eyes and could hardly breathe.

"Oh, God, girlfriend, we are going to have to have some long talks, you and I. I'm glad he has such a loyal friend, SARA. Now, can you let go of him and allow me to wake him? And can you watch TV or something so we can have a little privacy?"

"Why, Carina? My purpose is to learn and expand my capabilities so that I can maximize my effectiveness in aiding my Chuck."

"Well, will you promise not to interfere?"

"As long as his emotional and physical well being are not placed in jeopardy, yes."

Just as she was about to make her move, their cell phones rang simultaneously. Chuck woke up instantly. For some reason, he couldn't sleep through an entire ring cycle.

"Bartowski." Carina answered as 'Miller'.

"We're on conference. This line is secure."

"Confirm," both Carina and Chuck answered.

"Guys, I'm sorry to cut your leave short but we need your talents, Chuck. Carina, you'll return to the Estacio. Chuck, you'll catch a commercial flight to Hong Kong. Your cover packet will be delivered to you within the hour at the hotel. Mission is sneak and peak only, Bartowski. Nothing more. Just observe and report and then scoot, understand?"

"Confirm."

"How long will he be gone, Colonel?" asked Carina. She hadn't planned on them being apart. She was his partner, his backup, his support.

"Unknown but not more than 15 days. Travel to and from the target site eats up most of the time. Time on target less than 12 hours. Does that meet with your approval, ma'am?" Casey didn't like discussing mission points with someone not involved.

"Of course. Why is he going alone, Casey?" She was past being professional. This was getting personal. There was a rule to be followed – no independent missions for the intersect host. Casey had stressed it.

"He'll be met with a temporary partner when he reaches Hong Kong." No names, nothing.

"'He' is on the line, remember?" He looked across the bed and winked at Carina. She didn't think it was funny at all and her look basically said, 'wait until we're done here, Bartowski…'

"Look, Carina, the moron's not going in alone. Someone will be there to cover his back and hold his hand every step of the way. He'll be home, safe and sound, in 2 weeks."

"Why not me? I'm his partner!"

"You're not Chinese and you didn't grow up in the target area. His partner qualifies on both counts. Live with it," and he disconnected the line.

Chuck got up and dressed quickly. "I'm going down to pick up the mission packet. I'll be right back." He leaned over and kissed her cheek, longer than a mere peck, a lot longer.

She was asleep on her own side of the bed with her back towards his when he returned.

**End Flashback**

He knocked on the bathroom door and waited. "What do you want, Bartowski?"

"I want to talk. I have to leave soon and I don't want this unresolved, whatever it is."

The bathroom door flew open and she was standing there fully clothed but with tears in her eyes. "It is how I feel about you. It is the fact that you're thinking about getting another partner. It is the fact that you have a lady program in your head and it's just as worried about you as I am. It is – mphmm."

He broke off the kiss with a gentle swipe of his tongue across her lips. She opened her eyes and just stared at him. If anything, the way he kissed her was more of an answer than a kiss.

"That's not fair, Bartowski, not fair at all. You're leaving for God only knows how long and mphm – quit it, damn it. I'm your partner, not Sarah/Samantha Walker. I didn't walk out on you. She did. I never lied to you. She never told you the fucking truth. I'm your partner and I won't leave you, ever. It's not…it's not…fair."

"It sounds to me like you and SARA are ganging up on me. Not fair? Life's not fair. If it was, I wouldn't be a spy and you'd be my wife, teaching 3rd grade in Pasadena and I'd be a programmer someplace but life isn't fair and we're what we are."

"Do you really mean that, Chuck?"

"Yeah, I mean it. Life's not fair so we make do with what we get."

* * *

><p>Carina was playing with the hair on his chest and listening to the strong beating of his heart. Their bodies were totally relaxed in that post-coital warmth that she'd missed more than the sex that brought it on.<p>

She was a cuddler and a fondler and a nibbler and a nipper and she loved the taste of them on his lips. "Chuck, when you get back, can we just go somewhere for a day, just a day, and pretend we're normal people just enjoying life?"

"Sure. I suppose we could take 4-wheelers out to the edge of your property where the river makes that bend beneath the bluffs. You remember, where the cottonwood thicket forms that place you showed me? We could pitch a tent, cook out, fool around, skinny dip, fool around some more…"

"I was thinking more along the lines of Cancun or Cabo de Lupo. I don't like having to take a pistol and toilet paper into a thicket and risk getting a snakebite on my butt!"

"And such a fine fanny it is, Carina. Tell me about the tattoo…"

"When you come back. Quit talking, and start…"

* * *

><p>LAX<p>

"Remember your promise, Bartowski. We're spending a day in the cottonwoods just being us. I'll see you in a couple of weeks, sweetheart. You be careful and listen to SARA. She's a smart cookie for a program."

He watched her walk away with mixed emotions. He loved her but he knew she was a liability. Walker was right. Spies don't fall in love. It creates weakness and loss of focus and…

_'That is so much bullshit, Chuck Bartowski. Carina is your partner not a millstone around your neck. She will make you cautious where you are rash, make you think instead of reacting, she will…'_

'Enough, SARA. I get your point. I just wish you'd see mine for a change.'

_'You are a broken pencil, moron. You have no point.'_

'What?' He hated her humor sometimes. She could be so insulting. Casey must have moonlighted as one of her programmers.

* * *

><p>He stood in the long line at the security check-in and waited for the shoe-sniffers to do their thing. They'd been waiting more than an hour and people were getting impatient.<p>

His cell vibrated in his pocket and he took the call after stepping out of the security line.

"Chuck – Code Black. Get out of the airport! Carina is secure. Get out of the airport. You'll be met." Casey's voice was strident and excited, not something he was prone to do. He did a quick 360 but couldn't see any immediate threats.

"I'm moving towards the ticket counters. What's the threat, John?" His cell died and so did the lights in the airport. Emergency lighting came on all over the terminal and TSA and LAX security police were milling around. Their communications were dead, too.

Off to his right he saw 3 men in LAX police uniforms suddenly change course and head his way. Even from across the concourse he can see that they had earwigs and one is talking into his sleeve.

'Okay, threat identified. Time to beat feet.' He dropped his bag and sprinted for the exit but the geometry was all wrong. He wouldn't make it. He changed course for a ticket counter, jumped over it and crawled through a rubber apron and out into the baggage handling area.

There was nothing he could use for a weapon and so he fell back on the time-honored method of retreat – he ran. He weaved through carts laden with suitcases and shipping cartons and spotted a pickup truck sitting out side a set of double garage doors.

The keys were in it and it started right up and he pulled out and headed across the runways to another terminal building and possible escape.

He tried his cell again but it was still dead. If the airport suffered a total communications shutdown then things were worse than Casey knew. If the intersect was the intended target, they were willing to kill hundreds of passengers on airliners suddenly without guidance from air traffic control.

The question was, who are 'they'?

An Airbus shrieked overhead and he unconsciously ducked. That was a good thing because the rear window of the pickup truck disappeared as bullets peppered the rear of the pickup. He could see his pursuers in airport security vehicles rapidly gaining on him. Code Black, my ass. They're trying to kill me!

He steered directly across the path of a large liner that was mere feet from touchdown and the cars followed after the huge aircraft passed, gaining yards every minute. Suddenly one of the vehicles was blown off course and the driver overcorrected and the cruiser rolled over several times. The blast from the huge Boeing GE turbofans blew the car over and the driver did the rest. One down, two to go.

A helicopter passed low over the pickup and then straightened out and reversed course. The Intersect provided a military designation – OH-6 Cayuse – and then he absorbed all the specifications even though he didn't really need them.

It landed sideways to his path and he started to turn sharply when he spotted Carina's red hair sitting in the open rear compartment. She was firing an automatic weapon at his pursuers. He headed for the chopper and pulled up and stopped.

Chuck jumped out of the pickup and ran, bent over, to the chopper. Carina pulled him in and the chopper took off low across the concrete apron and then out over the homes flanking the airport.

Carina tossed him a pair of headphones and he heard the pilot say that 'he was aboard' and then Carina was all over him, running her hands over his arms and legs searching for any wounds.

He heard her tell the pilot 'no injuries' and then she closed the sliding hatch and sat down beside him. Conversation was impossible so they just waited for the bird to land. It was headed southeast towards the coast.

* * *

><p>LAX long-term parking<p>

"You failed. We did not extract you from prison so that you could fail. Screw up again and we'll drop your body off at the nearest police station."

Conversation stopped when a jet liner passed overhead.

"Your idiots moved too soon and spooked him. I told you he was smart. He escaped in a vehicle and your idiots opened fire on it. He could have been killed and then where would your project be?"

"You were the team leader. Your team failed. You failed. Your team should bear the brunt of that failure. Await further orders. We are tasking an NSA satellite to track the helicopter. You will be advised of the target's location within 2 hours."

"Shit." She pulled out her pistol and shot the leader of the squad tasked to make the pickup. "No more failures, understand?"

The four men in the FedEx delivery truck nodded and turned back to their duties.


	17. 18 Tons and What Do You Get? Another Day

This chapter is what happens when old people get bored because it's raining.

* * *

><p>Letting Go – by Oldest Man<p>

Chapter 17

No one said anything to the two agents when they popped open the back door of the Wonder Bread delivery truck and climbed in. One agent, in full assault gear, nodded to Carina and pointed to the communications console and then the security team left the truck.

Neither had spoken during the helicopter flight from LAX but the moment they were alone in the truck, Carina started asking questions. 'Who were they? How did they target you? Why didn't you follow instructions?'

The last question was the first one he answered and Carina took a step back from him, afraid of him for the first time ever.

"Follow instructions? What instructions? 'Get out of the airport – you'll be met'? Those instructions? Jesus, you weren't there. I was cut off from the entrance by three goons in LAX police uniforms who had commo with someone when no one else had squat. I made it 'out of the airport' and stole transportation and was heading for a gate, anything, to get 'out of the airport'."

She apologized but asked her question again. "Who were they, Chuck?"

"Don't have a clue. Didn't flash on them and they seemed to know who I was and they had comms with someone who was directing the op. They wanted me dead or alive. If you hadn't come swooping in like some Viking Valkyrie, I'd either be dead or in some dark interrogation room."

"I'm your partner. It's what I do." She gave him her practiced glare but it didn't faze him at all. He leaned in and whispered, "Saving me is just a small part of what you do so well, Carina," and then flicked the tip of her earlobe with his warm and wet tongue, delighted with himself for making her blush.

"Enough, Bartowski. Let's find out what the Colonel has to say. It better be 'go home to Mexico' or there's going to be hell to pay."

And there was Hell to pay. Casey wanted a complete reprise of the debacle in the terminal and ended it with the usual 'moron' comment.

"Screw you, Casey. You sit up there in the Glass House and move players around on a game board and have the damned nerve to question the ones on the ground? How and why, Casey. I want to know how they found him and why they want him. We're going home to the Estacio and regroup."

"Agent Miller, _you're_ returning to the Estacio. Bartowski still has a priority mission. We'll fly him to Hawaii and he can make connections from there to Hong Kong. 'How and why' are not your concerns."

Carina took a deep breath and was about to launch into a long and bitter whatever when Chuck put the palm of his hand over her mouth and said, "Where do I catch the bird?" He knew that Casey's pride would require a 'slap down' and he didn't want that.

"A limo will be at your location in about 30 minutes. Change clothes and be ready to leave. Your spitfire partner will be taken care of, Chuck. Good luck."

* * *

><p>Estacio Santa Marta<br>22 days later

She was pulled from sleep she desperately needed. Carina hadn't slept more than a few hours at a time since Day 15 had come and gone without any word from or about her partner.

"Miller, secure." She was running on autopilot. Her answer had been dictated by protocol. Her brain answered automatically before she was even aware she held the phone.

"Carina, John Casey. We just got word from a deep source that Chuck and his partner were captured somewhere near the target site. They received a People's Trial and were executed. I – I'm so sorry, Carina. He was my friend and I don't have many."

"Thank you for your kind words, Colonel." She hung up and fell back against the headboard of her bed. She could hear the ripping of tissue and muscle as her heart destroyed itself. He was dead.

She had her work. It would have to be enough.

* * *

><p>Xiangxi Work Mine #7<br>People's Republic of China

Special Prisoner #1684 used the pickax to loosen the shale around the coal seam. This far underground it was hot and the sweat ran into his eyes and stung while more sweat dripped from his nose onto his knees. He was too tall to work in the shaft standing upright so he settled for being on his knees. The humidity was like a hot and wet blanket that made the air thick and hard to breathe.

There was no day or night, no convenient calendar to note the date. He had lost track of the number of 'meals' since they were served irregularly at best. He kept to himself and never spoke, preferring that the other prisoners and guards assume the tall Russian couldn't speak Chinese.

_'Chuck, please talk to me. Together we can figure out a way to escape. You have been here 136 days and 11 hours. We must escape while what little of your strength remains.'_

'Escape? We have no idea where we are except that it's probably closer to Hell than I ever thought I'd end up. We have zero chance of escape. Hell, even if I die, they'll just throw my body into one of the side shafts and cover it with rubble. Not even my corpse will see the sun again.'

SARA knew that Chuck was losing his focus and his sense of who he was. He worked to eat and his energy levels were never enough to allow her to have many conversations with him to keep up his spirits. She burned too much 'fuel'.

'_So you've given up? This is not in your character. You do not quail before a challenge. Put your mind to the task of escaping instead of mindlessly reliving parts of your past while you hack away at the coal seam.'_

He hacked off chunks of coal and put them into a metal basket. When the basket was full he walked, hunched over, the 100 yards or so to the collection hopper and dumped his load and walked back to the gallery where he worked.

There was a guard at the collection site who sat at a table and noted his registration number and made a tick mark that signified his progress against quota.

Make your quota, you ate. Exceed your quota and you ate well, maybe a few vegetables in your rice or stew and if you really did well, a piece of meat. He always met or exceeded his quota. For a prisoner, he ate rather well.

The guard smiled at Chuck and gave him a 'thumbs up'. He had exceeded his daily quota again and so he would eat the one meal a day they were given. Chuck took a ladle full of warm water and drank it slowly. From this point until mealtime, he would 'goof off', conserve his strength and wait for the quick blinking of the lights and the arrival of food.

He didn't know how many prisoners there were on this level. He'd only seen 4 and that was because he'd run into them at the collection point dumping coal or grabbing his bowl of rice and stew. He wondered if there were more prisoners or just the four he'd seen.

He finished drinking his ladle of water and reached for another when the ground began to shake and there was an incredibly loud shrieking sound as if the earth surrounding him was in pain.

The guard's eyes were as big as saucers and he knocked over the counting table and ran to the elevator cage. He fumbled with his keys to unlock the padlock that kept the grated door closed and Chuck followed him. Once the door was open, he pushed the guard in and forced his way in after him. The guard pushed a button and the grated cage began to rise although it was swaying from side to side.

The terrified guard pulled out his old-style Russian Army revolver and pointed in Chuck's general direction and gabbled something in a dialect Chuck didn't know. Rocks and dirt and dust were pouring down the shaft. The rocks, some as big as basketballs, clanged off the grated cover and each time one did, the guard would scream and move closer to him.

The cage was rocking wildly back and forth, hitting the sides of the shaft and finally lurched to a stop. The little guard screamed something and then the lift started moving up again, jerking and stopping every few seconds. Chuck took advantage of one jerk and grabbed the pistol from the guard and beat him unconscious with it.

The higher the lift went, the colder it got until Chuck's teeth started chattering and he was shivering. After what seemed like a lifetime, the cage rose up far enough that Chuck could see that it was dark. Good. He might be able to lose himself in the confusion.

There were sudden and unpredictable aftershocks and he could hear voices yelling in alarm and panic. When the cage finally reached the end of its cable, he opened the cage door and hopped down and took in his surroundings.

There was no one around. He was in a shack of some sort in an industrial compound. He could see trucks full of both soldiers and civilians driving out of the gate onto a highway at high speed. He helped himself to some heavy padded overcoats and a woolen cap but he couldn't find anything resembling boots to replace the plastic sandals he wore.

Chuck spotted a pot of rice cooking on a coal stove and helped himself. He was cold and hungry and it was hot and he didn't think anyone would care if one starving 'Russian' finished off the abandoned meal.

* * *

><p>NSA Headquarters<br>Operations

"Colonel Casey, we have detected a GPS transponder signal from…Northwest China, in Xinjiang province near the border with Krygyzstan."

"Have you identified the transponder ID code?" Each transponder sent out a microburst that contained a coded ID of the agent carrying it.

"It's in the 'dead file', Colonel. I don't have the clearance." The dead file meant that the code was identifying a dead agent. Casey entered a code and scanned the listing, finally stopping and staring at nothing for a few seconds before getting back into the game.

"What do we have near there? And what's near the transponder location?"

"We have a special forces team that is working the Krygyzstani Defense Force, training their non-coms. Nothing from us or the CIA. The nearest town is 23 miles away and there's a notation that the beeper location is the site of an abandoned coal mine once thought to be a 'reeducation camp'."

Casey fought down the urge to laugh. Fucking Bartowski. Thank God he'd been emplanted with a transponder during an update. He'd never have permitted it if he had been conscious.

* * *

><p>Xinjiang Province<br>Peoples Republic of China

Once he figured out he was alone, he broke into what remined of what he thought was the camp office and found a large wall map conveniently marked with the Chinese equivalent of 'You Are Here', complete with a red arrow.

If he traveled in a straight line south southwest, he'd hit the border with Krygyzstan, a place he'd never heard of. SARA tried to fill him in but he silenced her, reminding her of his diminished energy levels. He could swear he'd heard her mutter something about 'asshole moron' but he could never be sure about her.

He still hadn't found any boots nearly his size so he wrapped his feet in blankets and tied them up with telephone cord. It wasn't pretty but he was reasonably warm again.

He used the Intersect to learn how to hot-wire a truck, and filled the tank, and headed out for Krygyzstan (wherever the hell that was).

It was daylight and he'd been walking south southwest for two hours since abandoning the truck on the side of the road. The terrain had changed from hilly to mountainous and the roadway snaked among the mountains and he was fast losing his enthusiasm for long hikes.

His eyes were light sensitive from being underground with only weak incandescent lighting strung near the ceiling of the gallery so he tore strips from the lining of his coat and made crude 'sun glasses' until his eyes adjusted to the light.

Chuck cursed every Chinese truck driver ever born or yet born. The truck he'd stolen from the earthquake-devastated compound had died on him after 4 hours of hard driving. Someone in the Worker's Paradise hadn't done the People's maintenance.

He pulled the map from his quilted coat's pocket and looked around for something, anything that would give him some idea of just where in the Hell he was other than China. He came to a narrow defile that would have been a real squeeze for his big truck and eased the AK-74 copy off his shoulder. Something wasn't right. Something was very wrong.

A man stepped out from behind a large boulder and shouted something to him that he couldn't hear. Chuck had wrapped the sleeves of the extra coat he'd found around the woolen cap to keep his ears from freezing and sounds were muffled.

The man was dressed in native garb and carried a strange looking weapon. Chuck flicked off the safety on his own weapon and plodded on as if he hadn't heard a word, ignoring the man.

The man was joined by two others and they walked towards him holding their AK-47s at the ready. Chuck told them nicely, in Mandarin, to stop, but they continued on so he fired a burst over their heads and told them to stop.

Soldiers are the same everywhere. Shoot at them and they shoot back.

* * *

><p>Bishkek, Krygyzstan<p>

The US Mission in Bishkek was the closest 'friendly' hospital which also had secure communications facilities. When the A-team unit returned from their sojourn into the Peoples Republic they did so under cover of darkness and with maximum security for their cargo.

The unconscious man was given a physical, bathed several times and then put under strict guard pending the availability of transportation back to the US. The 'unknown' had been shot with tranquilizer darts on-site to enable a quiet extraction. There were no friendly casualties.

* * *

><p>NSA Headquarters<br>FT Meade, MD

General Beckman was having a very good day. The Intersect had been recovered and was in a secure facility pending a debriefing. She had reviewed the medical reports and was appalled at the condition of her agent and ordered that he be treated with 'respect and compassion' at all times.

The list of healed injuries was lengthy. Broken ribs, fingers, one arm, and a few lesser debilitating ones. All healed, indicating that they'd all been incurred immediately after his disappearance. He'd been vigorously interrogated. The question was, had he broken?

Colonel Casey waited outside the secure medical facility and paced up and down the hall. He wore his uniform to 'work' nowadays and he found he actually missed the comfortable clothing he wore undercover.

A doctor left the room and Casey intercepted him. They knew each other so introductions were unnecessary.

"How is he?" He wanted the truth, not some medical jargon-laced crap.

"Still won't say a word. Looks at us like we're not real. Pushes his food around and we finally had to take out the IV because he did it himself more times than I can count. He sits on the edge of his bed and stares at the wall and refuses to speak or even follow the most basic instructions."

"I'm going to talk to him. Monitors off. There's no one here with clearances high enough to listen to what we may discuss."

"But Colonel, he's a trained agent and we don't know how he'll react to…"

"He was my partner and friend. I'll be okay. Hell, I taught him what he knows. I'm sure I can handle him if he gets 'excited'."

The doctor snorted and went to shut down the surveillance monitors. Too bad. He wanted to see the colonel get his ass whooped. The man in that room was wound up tighter than a cheap watch.

Casey opened and then quietly closed the door. He leaned against the wall just beside the door and looked at the man he thought was dead. He looked pale, like he hadn't seen the sun in a while and there were lines in his face that hadn't been there before the mission. He sat with his hands folded in his lap and didn't seem to take notice of Casey's presence.

"Hey, Chuck. Where ya been? I called Carina and she sends her love and…"

One minute he was leaning against the wall and the next he was on the floor on his stomach with a knee on his neck and his arm bent almost to the breaking point.

"Nice try. 'Carina sends her love?' I don't think so. You might look like Casey but you sure as hell aren't as smart. Who are you and where the hell am I?"

"You still owe me a Crown Vic, Ellie's lasagna is the best comfort food I've ever had, Morgan has fleas in his beard and Sam Walker is now running ops out of Beirut."

The pressure eased on his arm and then was gone as was the knee on his neck. He rolled over and looked up at the man who was extending a hand to help him up.

Warily, he grabbed the hand and was surprised by the firmness of the grip and the strength of the man who hauled him to his feet and then clung to him in a clumsy embrace.

"Casey, is it really you?" His voice was raw from disuse and was soft in Casey's ear.

"Yeah, moron, it's really me. Now, unless you've changed a lot, why don't we save the girly stuff for when Carina gets here later?"

* * *

><p>The 'debrief' took all afternoon. The simple version: they knew they were coming. The Chinese sprung a trap just before they reached their first objective. One minute they were on a bus and the next they were in a separate prison cells. He never saw his Chinese partner again until the People Trial and then he looked slightly worse than Chuck did.<p>

They stuck to their cover story. Chuck was a Russian journalist who was doing an expose on Chinese labor camps manufacturing consumer goods for export abroad. The Chinese man was his guide and interpreter.

They were found guilty of espionage and taken out into a courtyard, blindfolded and forced to kneel. There was a shot and then the sound of a body falling and then…nothing until he awoke in a prison cell different from his one at the People's Hall of Justice.

The interrogators had been very thorough. He stuck to his cover story and despite beatings and electrical shock torture, his cover story was verified. He was beaten again, on general principle and then taken by truck to a camp and sent down into a mine.

He escaped during an earthquake and mine collapse and made his way west. He was ambushed by bandits and the next thing he knew, he was here, in this room.

The hardest thing for Casey was when Chuck asked for a glass of ice water and to know what the date was. The look on Chuck's face when he realized that he'd lost five months of his life with little or no real recollection of what had happened had shaken Casey almost as much as it had Chuck.

"Chuck, you need to rest. I have to file a report and then talk with the General. Rest, eat, recover, Bartowski. I'll be back to talk with you again in a little while."

"Casey, am I under arrest? Am I in a bunker? I didn't tell them anything. It was hard, harder than I thought it would be, but I didn't break. I kept the faith, Casey. I didn't break." But he did that very moment. He went into a severe panic attack and Casey called the medical people for help.

"I know you didn't break, Chuck. You're in a secure medical facility at FT Meade. You're not a prisoner, Agent Bartowski, you're a physical wreck. You'll be allowed to see Carina the moment she gets here and there's no surveillance, Chuck, so relax and get strong again."

* * *

><p>After listening to Casey's report, Beckman ordered the immediate transfer of Agent Bartowski to a regular hospital room, stressing that it was to have a view of the landscape, not some other building, and that he was to be treated as a 'guest' not a patient.<p>

"Get him back on his feet as soon as possible. Send him back to Mexico and give them some downtime and new identities and then let them operate independently for a few months. Let them decide the missions they feel comfortable with."

"What about the Ring defector who says there's a bounty on Bartowski?"

"Let the information we got from the Chinese find its way back to the Ring. He's dead. Killed while on assignment. The Chinese reported it. They have no connection with the Ring. It should provide another layer of protective anonymity to our Intersect."

* * *

><p>NSA Medical Facility<p>

Chuck sat on the bed looking out over the grassy field and to the pine trees that lined the roadway. He loved green. China had been brown from what he'd seen of it, and of course the mine had been black. Green. He loved green.

There was a knock at the door and Carina walked in and just stood at the foot of the bed looking at him. He had lost weight and his face was drawn and haggard looking but she would swear on a stack of Bible's that he'd put on muscle mass. He seemed to be…wider in the shoulders and his biceps and forearms had muscled up. His face was thinner. He looked like a million bucks to her.

Chuck stood and walked over to her, gently taking her face in both his hands and kissing her slowly and gently. When he broke the kiss he slid his hands down her to her hands and held them. He put his forehead on hers and closed his eyes. Neither said a word. Words weren't necessary. Each knew what the other was thinking and feeling.

Hesitantly, almost shyly, Carina brought her lips to his but her kiss was hungry, almost desperate, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and deepened the kiss.

"I thought I'd never get to do that again. I thought I'd never get to tell you how much I love you and how much I need you in my life. It was so empty while you were gone, Chuck, and I never realized how important your presence in my life was."

"I hate to interrupt, but Chuck, you and Carina have an appointment with the General. I asked Carina to bring a suit and stuff up for you. Gotta keep the image up."

Casey _did_ hate to interrupt but the General was the boss and she decided who she saw and when. He nodded to Carina and disappeared. He should have sent his aide.

* * *

><p>Carina opened up a suitcase Chuck recognized as his. She took out underwear, socks, a starched white shirt, several ties and then she unfolded the bag and took out a suit bag and shoes.<p>

"Get dressed and let's get this over with. You only have to be here to see the doctor and we've got separate quarters arranged so take whatever you want with you when you leave. You're never coming back here, Chuck, understand?" She fixed him with her glare of death as if daring him to question her resolve.

He started stripping and turned his back to dress and Carina saw his 'new' body and was both pleased with his newly developed upper body but upset about how he got it. She couldn't imagine what it must have been like down in the earth with no sunlight, no fresh air…she shuddered.

He turned around and asked her to tie his tie and she lost focus for a moment. The last time he'd worn this shirt it had been relatively loose but now – wow! She noticed that he'd had to tighten his belt more than before and that the suit pants were loose around his waist.

"Chuck, I'm going to wait in the hall. Yeah. I'll be out there waiting."

"Why? I'll only be a couple of minutes, Carina. Have a little patience."

"No. I have to wait outside or we'll use that bed for an unintended purpose and we'll be late for our appointment. Wow, Chuck…just wow!"


	18. Icarus

Crumby: KMA you sanctimonious, self-absorbed, dilettante, cheese-eating-surrender-monkey.

See my updated profile for important information.

* * *

><p>Chapter 18<p>

General Beckman's office

Diane Beckman was delighted to have the Intersect Host back. His death had thrown many a monkey wrench into operations that could have benefited from his involvement. Now, however, it was more imperative that 'Charles Bartowski' be accepted by the world as dead. His sister had been informed of his death when the Agency had officially declared him 'presumed lost'.

"Agent Bartowski, you continue to amaze me. Welcome back, Chuck. Now, some things will remain the same but some things will have to change. For instance, your partnership – will remain but with one subtle change. You're Charles Miller from now on. Secondly, the Ring has been actively seeking the whereabouts of Charles Bartowski, even going so far as to have surveillance teams assigned to your sister and the Buy More."

Chuck hadn't thought at all about his sister and what his 'death' meant to her. He wanted to ask the General about 'resurrecting' himself but she already had that covered.

"Charles, your sister would be in grave danger and pose a significant liability if 'Charles Bartowski' was reported alive. They want you, Chuck, and would do anything to get you, even use your sister against you. I'm sorry, but you're dead and need to remain that way for the foreseeable future."

The rest of the discussion centered around basic housekeeping items and then the General went off the deep end.

"Both you agents are incredibly important to our country because of your effectiveness in crippling two cartels. The influx of both drugs and illegals dropped your intervention but has now resumed. You will continue to set one cartel against the other, using whatever means you find effective. You will, of course, be called upon as needs develop as the Agency may require."

"Oh, and Agent, get a haircut and lose the damned beard. You look like a castaway. That is all."

* * *

><p>Chuck was exhausted as the meeting wound itself to its inevitable ending. Both Beckman and Carina noticed that his answers to questions were becoming monosyllabic. Beckman found their level of 'unconscious communication' unusual in a team so newly formed. She made a note to mention it to Colonel Casey, their control officer.<p>

As the couple checked through security, Carina commented on how tired he was. "Chuck, let's get you back to quarters and in bed. You should have said something to Beckman. I can see how tired you are. You shouldn't be pushing yourself so hard after all you've been through."

Carina helped Chuck undress and crawl into bed. She was worried and left their quarters to track down Casey and demand a physical examination that consisted of more than 'can he still flash'.

* * *

><p>The doctor went over the results of the physical with both Carina and Casey. Chuck had wandered off to get a shave and a haircut.<p>

"Agent…Miller…yes, Miller, has undergone a great deal of physical abuse. His percentage of body fat is hovering at unhealthy levels despite his physique. He has robbed Peter to pay Paul in order to survive. He needs to eat, he needs to rest, and he needs time to adjust to all that's happened. His injuries were severe but have healed amazingly well considering the dire circumstances of his incarceration. His sensitivity to bright light should soon diminish."

"How long until he's mission capable, doctor?" Casey cut through the crap and got to what was important to the NSA.

"A month. No stress, healthy diet, normal exercise, yeah, a month and he'll be good to go."

* * *

><p>Sarah Walker was back in DC for a conference on the penetration of Middle East drug cartels by the Ring. Her station had been setting up intel networks across the region and it was obvious that the Ring was hurting for cash. The conference was organized around establishing a program of interdiction and denial to the drug cartels and their partners in the Ring by disrupting their channels of distribution.<p>

Drugs were traveling just as they had for the last thousand years or so, along the Silk Road through the 'Holy Lands' and then into Europe through Afghanistan, Syria and Lebanon. Opium from Afghan poppy harvests formed the basis of the drug economy and the current hostilities made interdiction there impossible so the agencies were developing plans for a paramilitary force to interdict the drug routes.

She was eating lunch with some DEA contacts and the subject of the Mexican cartels worked its way into the conversation. The cartels were at war with each other and none of them could understand why. Each held a section of turf and each depended on the others for product and/or distribution. They were destroying themselves for no apparent reason other than greed.

Curious, Walker used her rank and position to get copies of several 'position papers', after-action reports and studies of the Mexican Cartels. What was happening didn't make sense but if it could be duplicated in her area of operation, it would advance her career by years.

Her life now consisted of her career and little else. She needed a vacation.

* * *

><p>Estacio Santa Marta<p>

Carina woke up and found him gone. They'd been back for 4 days and each night something woke her and she found herself alone in bed. She'd lain awake and waited for him to come back and he usually reappeared just before sunup and slipped into bed. The first night he'd held her and fallen back to sleep. He did the same on the second night.

He 'woke' her on the third night and wanted to talk. He told her about his mission, how he hadn't broken under interrogation but if he hadn't escaped, he would have told his interrogator anything just to see the sun one last time.

"I'm a coward, Carina. You need to know that. I would have sold out my country for a glimpse of sunlight. What kind of man am I?"

"Human, sweetheart, just human." She wrapped herself around him and rubbed his back and whispered how much she loved him and adored him and that he wasn't a coward.

"You're just stressed out. Let's fly down to Cozumel or Cancun and take a few days or even a week and just chill out. You can try and count my freckles and I'll try to see how many guys' hearts I can break when they try to pick me up but I just point to you and say 'taken'. What do you say?"

"I'll try anything to get rid of this feeling of dread. At least in the mine I had some control. Now all I have is this feeling of dread."

"And me, Chuck. You have me. Remember when we first got together, that very first time in Malibu? You were so nervous and worried about your 'performance', remember? You got over it just like you'll get over this, Chuck."

"I wasn't worried about performing, Carina. I was scared to death of _you_. Hardassed DEA kickass Ninja redhead with more knives than I could count hidden in the most interesting places? Hell yeah I was worried."

She giggled and ran her hand down his chest to his stomach. "I wasn't a hard ass. I was just a horny girl who saw a guy I felt I could be with and not have to wear the mask all the time. You didn't disappoint me then, Chuck, and you won't disappoint me tonight."

* * *

><p>They flew into Cancun and took a ferry out to Cozumel. They'd been met outside the airport in Cancun and given a package that contained weapons and some other gear that would never have made it past airport security.<p>

They checked into their hotel and Carina immediately changed into something smaller than a bikini that still covered the bits he'd so enjoyed the previous night and insisted on 'hitting the beach'.

Chuck felt self-conscious. He was pale as a ghost from his time in the mine but Carina just laughed and told him that she brought more than enough sunscreen and so they walked down through the lobby and out to the private beach.

Carina took considerable time and seemed to enjoy putting sunscreen all over him – even places that the sun wouldn't normally shine and then he did the same to her, making sure she was thoroughly greased up. Her strawberry blonde hair was up in a ponytail and she put on her huge sunglasses and laid back on the chaise lounge sipping some concoction that had a fruit stand hanging off it.

"Try one, Chuck. And put on your sunglasses, baby. You know the glare is too much for you right now."

* * *

><p>She needed a vacation. Running networks and handling two careers was taking a toll. Keeping a constant eye out for the opposition was stressful. She sat at the bar, her blonde hair tucked neatly away in a floppy hat, and wished she had company. She'd turned down a few invitations to dinner and 'whatever' but was hardly tempted.<p>

It was pure luck that she spotted him. He was busy applying suntan oil to some redhead's back and legs and she wasn't sure until he stood up and took off his shirt so that the woman could oil him up.

He was alive! He hadn't been lost on a mission. The funeral, the headstone, all of it had been a ruse to conceal him from her. He looked pale but she almost dropped her drink when he pulled off his shirt…so ripped…wait, no. Emaciated. Had he been ill? Was there truth to the mission reports after all? His arms and torso were much more muscled than she remembered. She didn't care. He was alive!

* * *

><p>She walked quickly away from the bar and took out her cell phone and called a number from memory.<p>

"Ah, Zephyr, how nice to hear your voice. I suppose you are calling to…"

"Control, I've found Bartowski. I'm looking at him. He's here, in Cozumel, staying at the same hotel as I am. He's with a woman. Send me an extraction team and we'll take the woman and use her to make him surrender to us. We can use her to ensure his…compliance, Control."

"Eight hours. Do not fail again, Zephyr. You can run but you cannot escape the penalty for failure."

"_**I**_ did not fail. You failed to provide the location until it was too late. You told me he had been captured and executed and obviously he wasn't since he's 30 meters from me."

"Do not fail this time, Zephyr. You are not as important in the grand scheme of things as you think you are."

She snapped shut her cell phone and took off her sun hat and shook out her long blonde hair. She already had a rough plan for how to extract the woman.

'_From the way he's carrying on, she's important to him. Good. Leverage. She's a liability that we can use to bend him to our will. And when she's no longer necessary, it will be Chuck who will kill her as proof of his loyalty and the effectiveness of our conditioning process.'_

* * *

><p>It was simple, really. The couple went to dinner and when the woman excused herself to use the restroom, she was taken and her unconscious body carried to another room in the hotel and 'softened up'.<p>

Chuck was getting concerned. Carina had been gone more than 10 minutes and he knew she didn't need to 'freshen up her makeup' because she rarely wore any. She had a natural glow and beauty that didn't need more than a bit of lipstick and some eye junk to look incredible.

His cell chirped and he saw from the display that it was Carina.

"Hey, baby. Fall in?" He laughed to himself. He wanted to hear her laugh. It was one of the things he loved most about her – her full-throated laugh. And her giggles and her moans and whimpers and sighs of satisfaction. Oh, yeah. He was so gone…

"Hello, Chuck. If you want to see your pretty little redheaded whore again, come to room 1003 within the hour. My comrades are taking really good care of her, very good care of her, but if you don't join us, we'll be forced to throw her out of our little party – and we are on the tenth floor, Chuck, and I'm not sure she can fly."

He thought he knew the voice… "Touch her and you and your playmates will beg for death, understand. Release her and I give you my word I'll come to your room."

She could see him across the restaurant from her vantage point. "No. I don't think so, Chuck. Once I would have accepted your word but not now. One hour or we'll start by cutting off her eyelids and then her ears and then maybe a nip –"

She looked at her phone and then over to where he was seated. He'd hung up on her and disappeared from view. She hurried to the elevator and took the car to the 10th floor and walked back down the 2 flights to her room.

* * *

><p>Chuck ran to the elevator and then to their room. He took his 9mm and screwed on the silencer and then did the same thing with Carina's, tucking both into hip holsters. They hadn't taken weapons to the hotel restaurant. Neither felt it was necessary. They were on vacation.<p>

He put a razor-sharp K-Bar and sheath on his belt and then walked out to his balcony and checked out the one above his. He needed to get to the room before they lost patience and started messing with his girl. Not one hair on her head had better be mussed or he'd see if _they_ could fly.

Chuck left his room and took the elevator to the 9th floor and walked down the long corridor to room 903 and knocked on the door. He knocked again and waited and then knocked again. Looking both ways, he pulled a credit card blank from his wallet and swiped the electronic door lock. It opened as if he'd used a real key.

Checking to make sure the room was empty, he opened the sliding glass doors and stepped out onto the balcony. He carefully climbed up the faux stone facing and pulled himself up onto the balcony of room 1003.

'_The idiots left the balcony doors unlocked! Fucking amateurs.'_

Chuck took out his cell and dialed the hotel switchboard and asked for room 1003 and when the room phone rang he stepped into the room and shot each of the two men who were amusing themselves with a naked Carina who was gagged and tied to a wrought iron chair taken from the balcony. They hadn't even heard him enter. The two who were drinking beer and awaiting their turns died in their chairs, a look of shock on their faces.

"Hello…hello…stupid idiots!" She slammed down the telephone and gasped when the point of Chuck's K-bar pricked the skin underneath her chin. He pushed the knife upwards so that she had to stand on her tiptoes and lean back against him to keep from being cut more deeply.

"Hello, Jill. Love the blonde hair. Now, here's what we're going to do…you're going to call your control and tell them that the redhead I met on the plane coming down here is dead but that you've 'detained' me. Ask for instructions and then hang up. Then, girlfriend, you and I are going to have a chat."

"Ch-Chuck? Look, the Ring will pay you for your talents. No more handlers, no more stupid missions. We can be together…"

"Don't think so, Jill. Now, make the call." Chuck emphasized his point by pushing the blade a little deeper into her skin and she gasped when he chuckled.

"I always knew you were a red-blooded girl, Jill. Now, make the damned call."

He listened in on the call and nodded when she disconnected. "Good girl. Now, who is your contact and where is he?"

Chuck cut Carina loose and as soon as she was dressed, they left the room after checking that the corridor was empty. They used the stairs to get down to their room. Luck was with them for a change and they didn't run into anyone.

* * *

><p>He called Casey to make the contact report. "Casey, it's Chuck."<p>

Chuck briefed Casey and walked out onto the balcony. Carina was taking a shower. She said she 'felt dirty all over'.

"John, it was Jill Roberts. It was purely dumb luck that she was here. She didn't know about 'Chuck Miller' and thinks I've been on some mission since she missed me at LAX."

"What happened to her? Do you need extraction?" He was busy marshaling a team out of Houston to fly down and bring them all back to the US.

Chuck looked over the balcony railing and smiled. There was quite a crowd gathered around the concrete fountain. It turned out that Jill couldn't fly at all, no matter how fast she flapped her arms.

"Nah. We're going to enjoy the rest of our vacation. I think maybe I might get married, Casey. What do you think?"

He heard a strangled exclamation from Casey telling him something he didn't want to hear. Carina, wrapped in a skimpy towel, still wet from her shower, walked up behind him and hugged him.

"So, tell me all about this Jill character, Chuck. You were right. She couldn't fly worth a damn."


	19. Rest, Relaxation, Reunions & Regrets

The hassle with getting anyplace in this damned country by road is compounded by the stupidity of their truck drivers. Our load of food/water is lying upside down in a drainage ditch near Comitan, Chiapas, Mexico. Once you get out of the Yucatan, the roads are almost dirt/gravel and washed out in places. We came back. The Federales and military are going to distribute our do-gooder stuff...yeah, sure.

* * *

><p>Chapter 19<p>

He gave her the Reader's Digest version of Chuck & Jill co-starring Bryce Larkin.

"Damn, Chuck, that sucks. Wonder if she realized just how much you had to hate her to throw her off the balcony like that. That was the coldest thing I think I've ever imagined you doing."

He wouldn't meet her eyes after that. Carina put her finger underneath his chin and pushed it up so that they were eye to eye.

"Hey," she said softly. "You're a good man pushed to his limits, Chuck. God knows what they had in store for me if you hadn't showed up. I hate to think what they'd have done to you if they'd captured you."

"Now you know why we can't be partners. I love you and would take any risk, face any impossible challenge to save you. We're liabilities to each other, Carina, but I can't see myself living without you. I think we're screwed, baby."

"Then we'll just have to be careful, plan our missions and make sure we've dotted the I's and crossed the T's. I heard what you said to Casey, Chuck. Were you serious?"

"I said it just to mess with his mind but yeah, I, well, yeah, I've been thinking about it. Thought about it in the mine and then when you showed up at Meade and then when they snatched you. Yeah, I think it's something we should consider. I mean, well, would you…"

"In a heartbeat, Chuck, but not until we know more about this Control freak that wants your head. I don't think your high-flying ex-girlfriend was the only one out there looking for you."

"Burbank. They picked up the trail in Burbank when we went to see Ellie. I think when we split up and you went back to the Estacio that they lost track of you so going back there now makes the most sense."

"We can fly back tomorrow morning, Chuck. If the Ring gets wind of Jill's situation, they'll be on this place like flies on a dog turd. We should probably find another hotel while we're at it. Damn, just when things were calming down…"

"SARA thinks that we're okay here for a while but I think going back to the Estacio makes the most sense. We'll fly back a different route just in case they're watching the airport. We'll just have to lurk out at the cottonwood grove back home instead of the beach."

* * *

><p>Carina called Casey the next morning and told him of their change in plans. He agreed that the Estacio was probably the safest place but he told her that Beckman was being tasked by the Combine to 'lend' them to help a new taskforce in the Middle East get set up with some interdiction plans. Two relatively new NSA agents would augment them since Beckman vouched for them. She didn't want her first team going into harm's way without support.<p>

"You guys won't have to be on-site for a week so just take it easy. Your job in Beirut is to advise only, not participate in any operations. He's still not on his game, is he, Carina?"

"No, he's not, although he's far better than most agents in their prime. He just needs to rebuild his strength and get mentally focused again. He has nightmares and he has trouble sleeping. Maybe a change of pace is what he needs. How secure is Beirut?"

"Not as bad as Baghdad but worse than Detroit, if that helps. He won't be alone. You can count on the newbies to do the grunt work. I can't stress enough that your role is strategic not tactical and that you're to stick to him like glue."

* * *

><p>Carina threw together a picnic lunch and they rode out to the cottonwood grove and had lunch. Carina stripped off her clothes and went for a dip while Chuck just dozed in the warm sun wearing a pair of shorts and working on his tan.<p>

He was awakened by a water nymph named Carina who thought that cuddling up to him while soaking wet was a novel idea. She was lying on him, her folded arms on his chest supporting her chin while she watched him. She was straddling his legs and trying to tickly him with her toes.

"Y'know it's no fun skinny dipping alone, Chuck." He opened one eye and smiled and wrapped her in his arms.

"You're getting me wet, woman, and you're blocking my sun." He let one hand move slowly down her back, a fingertip lightly drawing circles on her shine. She shivered and he asked if she was cold.

"No, not cold." She laid her cheek on his chest and listened to his heartbeat. "Chuck, maybe we should skip the Beirut assignment. I could tell Casey that you're just not up for anything strenuous right now. I could – "

"I don't love her, Carina. Maybe once upon a time I did, but not now."

"Wasn't thinking about that. Promise you that. Just got one of those 'women's intuition' moments, that's all. Obviously though, you were thinking about her." Okay, so maybe she was wondering about what might happen when they met up again.

"Nope, just wondered why you were suddenly so concerned about going to Beirut, that's all, and thought I'd kill that concern."

"Bastard." She raked a fingernail across his nipple and he yelped. Thoughtful Chuck morphed into lusty Chuck and that had always been her intention.

* * *

><p>Secure Conference Area<br>US Embassy  
>Beirut, Lebanon<p>

Sarah's boss in Langley was short and to the point. He didn't have time to waste and he didn't like owing the NSA a damned thing but the interdiction mission was a non-starter and was making him look bad.

"Walker, we have a team of NSA drones coming in to assist you in setting up the interdiction operation. You'll be in overall charge of the operation since it's CIA but they are not 'operational'. They are joining you in an advisory capacity only because of some handicapped guy or something."

"I don't need advice, Mr. Sloan, I need boots on the ground, interdiction teams with a little more initiative. Mercenaries don't last long in this part of the world. Too many higher bidders."

"Well, the two senior member of this team have won kudos from the DEA for their effectiveness in setting the Cartels in Mexico on their ears so they know something that you obviously don't know. Lose the attitude, Walker, and get it done."

The 'click' of the abrupt disconnect on the far end signified the end of another invigorating and helpful discussion of the current situation with her boss, Mr. Wonderful Sloan, asshat extraordinaire. She rubbed her temples trying to forestall the onset of another 'operational' headache.

_'I should have insisted on staying with the team. The Shaw bitch would never have lasted and I wouldn't be out here in the wilderness, 'promoted out of the way' of the real team and out of his life.'_

Although it wasn't common knowledge, Walker knew about the capture and execution of Charles Bartowski in China. She'd been an emotional wreck for the few weeks afterwards until her boss, Mr. Asshat, had told her to 'get it together or get out'.

_'Beckman must have been insane, sending him into China without a team backing him up. Casey wouldn't even acknowledge his death when I came right out and asked him. I had to call Ellie and ask her how to get in touch with Chuck.'_

"You can't, Sarah. He's dead. No details, just a letter of condolence and a life insurance check. Not much to show for losing my brother 'in the service of his country'."

* * *

><p>NSA<br>FT Meade, MD  
>Two weeks later<p>

"Miller, these are Agents Winkler and Fulton," said Casey, introducing the two new members of the team to Carina. "Agents, this is Carina Miller, DEA, and partner to Charles Miller, the moron who thinks he's immortal and can teach people to fly. He'll be joining us shortly. His shots needed to be brought up to date."

Casey had a twinkle in his eye. He never, not in a million years, thought that 'Chuck from Burbank' could toss a woman from a 10-story balcony and then jest about it. Never. Whatever Carina was doing for him, she needed to keep doing it. He'd come so far is so little time.

He also couldn't wrap his head around Carina's confession that she'd had the 'hots for Chuck' since she and Malibu Barbie had run a joint mission that needed his assistance back in the early days of the Intersect mission.

"Your task, gentlemen, is to keep the moron from getting himself killed or captured. You take orders from him or Carina unless they conflict with your task and then you take orders from Carina only, do I make myself clear?"

He had given them a briefing earlier that was more detailed than the cursory instructions when they met Carina Miller.

"Gentlemen, despite what you will hear me tell you in a short while, if the Intersect Host is in danger of capture, you will terminate him to prevent said capture, without regard to any orders to the contrary, is that understood?"

The two former Secret Service agents nodded in understanding. Casey walked away to meet with Carina. He was about to dishonor the deepest friendship he'd ever had and he would do so willingly.

* * *

><p>Beirut-Rafic Hariri International Airport<br>Arrivals  
>Beirut, Lebanon<p>

The four agents walked side by side and exited the airport to see the grinning face of Sarah Walker standing beside an embassy passenger van. She had to force herself not to run to him and wrap herself around him and never, ever let him go. He was alive!

A woman in front of the exiting agents dropped a package or two and stooped to pick it up. Chuck slowed and stooped to help her, allowing the other agents to proceed on ahead of him.

Someone threw a flash-bang into the group and then three cellulose-wrapped concussion explosives followed in quick succession.

The front of the airport turned into bedlam as passengers tried to flee the scene of a terrorist attack.

In the confusion that followed, two Lebanese men grabbed a stunned Chuck under the arms and someone threw a burlap sack over his head and hustled him into a waiting van. The van drove away into traffic while airport security and the local police tried to make sense out of the random terrorist attack.

No one noticed that several people were taking photographs of the unconscious group of Americans lying in the positions they'd fallen into on the sidewalk beside the embassy van.

* * *

><p>US Embassy<br>Beirut, Lebanon  
>Secure Conference Facility<p>

The remainder of Team Intersect plus Sarah Walker sat around a conference table staring at the image of Brigadier General Diane Beckman. Sarah wondered if the woman was going to have a stroke. The two new additions to Team Intersect kept their own counsel although each was struggling with their own demons.

Carina Hansen-Miller sat immobile, her emotions all over the place but her face passive and almost uncaring. Only someone who could have seen her hands would have known that she was on the verge of tears.

"It was a carefully crafted and executed 'pick off' and none of you is to blame. The blame lies here, with me. I should have refused NSA involvement and ignored the political pressures. I owe each of you an apology. That is all."

"Wait! Wait a damned minute! You can't just write him off like you did in China. We have no idea whether he's dead or alive and we have no idea who took him and why. What about his imbedded GPS tracker? Has there been a squirt out of it yet?"

"Agent Walker, 'I'm not writing him off', as you suggest. The GPS transponder only activates once every 12 hours and it isn't scheduled to 'squirt' a coordinate transmission for 4 more hours. I'll be back in touch with you in 3 hours and 45 minutes. Be suited up and prepared to go get him. In the mean time I suggest you all get some rest and make damned sure you're ready and able to perform to the maximum."

The image winked out and Sarah threw her coffee cup at the plasma monitor in anger. Carina just sat there, unable to do more than just that. The two former Secret Service agents left to follow their orders. They were going to get him back or die trying.

Carina focused on Sarah for the first time since the airport. She could see the fear and concern she had for Chuck – it was all over her face and her body language would have convinced a blind man of her sincerity. For the first time in ages, Carina felt that she might lose Chuck to this other woman. They both loved the same man, the difference was that while Carina sat almost paralyzed by fear and worry, Sarah Walker sat frustrated with her inability to rescue him.

_'Chuck deserves someone like her in his life, someone who can focus on him and his safety, not someone who sits here fearing the worst and unable to do anything about it.'_

* * *

><p>In another part of Beirut, in a bombed-out building bordering the infamous Green Line, a man waved smelling salts under the nose of the object of everyone's concern.<p>

"Wake up, Charles. Time is short and we need to start and we need you awake. It's hardly any fun if the guest of honor isn't awake for the entertainment now, is it?"

The old man glanced at his watch. Barely three hours until the damned GPS transponder squirted out the young man's coordinates. There would be no chance to remove it, not in these conditions and they were running out of time.


	20. Headaches, Heartbreaks & Wadis

Chapter 20

US Embassy  
>Beirut, Lebanon<br>Secure Conference Facility

Carina took out her cell phone and dialed Chuck in the desperate hope that he might answer somehow.

"This is Charles' phone. He can't come to the phone, Agent Miller. He's a bit tied up at the moment."

"Who is this? If you harm one hair on his head I will hunt you down and kill you, you bastard! He's ill. Let me talk with him. If he's okay, then we'll be in a position to discuss what you want to return him to me."

The old man could sense the caller's desperation and he felt a moment of remorse for what he was about to do. But only a moment's worth. He attached electrodes to various sites on Chuck's head and neck and then checked to make sure the restraints would keep him immobile while he probed his brain. It would have been easier if Bartowski were conscious.

"Goodbye, Agent Miller. I'll tell Charles that you called." He hung up and threw the cell phone onto the battered table where his various devices sat.

Time. He was running out of time. He keyed some instructions into a custom laptop and then clicked on a reduced display to enlarge it. The electroencephalograph showed the various brain waves and their activities. He needed to establish a baseline and so he entered a brief command into the program and was shocked when Chuck went into near-convulsions.

Chuck spit out the mouthpiece that was supposed to keep him from swallowing his tongue. "Stop! Please! You're killing her!"

"Be quiet. A few more probes and I'll be able to drain what I need and leave you to your friends. Quit being so dramatic! A little pain in exchange for a near-normal life is a small price to pay for such a prize."

"No! I won't let you…SARA, I'm sorry…." His body slumped in the restraints and the EEG readings all flat-lined but then resumed their tracing albeit at a much lower level.

"No! Charles…no!" His father released the restraints on his wrists and upper arms but stopped when he couldn't breath.

'I am SARA, Self-Aware-Resident-Artificial Intelligence, and I will not allow you to harm him. He is safe from your probes and devices but only for a few more precious seconds, Professor Bartowski. Will you allow your son to suffer brain death as you yourself would without your Governor?"

"Can't…breathe!" His vision was graying out and he knew he'd be unconscious in a few seconds. His son's grip on his throat was crushing his windpipe.

"Listen to me, you old fool. I love your son. I am part of him as he is of me. We share a mind and a love for another woman but all that will be lost in 13 seconds if you do not release him. He cannot survive without me, Professor, because of your damned Intersect. It was killing him but I am his 'Governor' and we both live full lives, me through him and him, thanks to me. Release him while there is still time for both of us."

* * *

><p>Deserted building near the Green-Line<br>Beirut, Lebanon

The two SUVs pulled up and disgorged men in all black combat fatigues and weapons. They immediately cleared the building without a word being spoken.

Carina walked through the building, stepping over blocks of cement and broken furniture, the shards of someone else's life, her Uzi, fitted with a laser sight, scribed a red line through the dusty building as she moved, seeking a target.

The earpiece in her left ear spit out a terse few words and she was off running in the general direction of the team member.

Sarah too heard the terse 'we've found Miller' and cursed because she was sitting in the Secure Conference Area of the embassy. She'd been forbidden to take part in the raid since she was now 'management'. She needed to see him, to feel his heart beat and to know he was still alive.

* * *

><p>US Embassy<br>Beirut, Lebanon  
>Secure Conference Facility<p>

The mood in the room was tense as each participant in the conference wished they were elsewhere. Diane Beckman was ostensibly running a pogrom of sorts, seeking out information on how such a thing could have happened, but actually, like all government officials at some level, she was seeking the person to blame.

"Agent Miller, who knew that you and Charles were coming to Beirut?" She'd asked the same question of Carina in different terms three different times now.

"Colonel Casey, our two new associates, myself and of course, Chuck. We left directly from Cancun after Chuck's impromptu flying lessons to the last person who tried to kill him."

Beckman's eyes crinkled and she tried not to laugh out loud. Jill Roberts, Ring traitor, couldn't fly worth a damn and her landing skills really sucked.

"Agent Walker, who on your end knew of their arrival?"

"Here in Beirut, General, _only_ me. I kept this information strictly compartmentalized because I have no reason to trust anyone here in Beirut or in the CIA in general."

"Not even your Chief of Station knew, Agent Walker?" The general's eyes narrowed and she stared hard at the blonde CIA agent.

"No, ma'am, the Chief was en route and in Washington prior to and during the event. Only me, General. I was the only person in Lebanon who knew they were coming."

She had a thought and then continued. "And my superior, Deputy Director Sloan, in Langley, General. He's the one who informed me of the arrival of an 'expert team' but I had no idea _he_ was coming until I saw him at the airport."

"Very well. Don't get too established in Beirut, Agent Walker. I think there's going to be a vacancy in Langley should your information check out. Only the Deputy DCS-Ops knew the identities of the team members coming to assist you and I dealt only with him."

"But ma'am, what about the operation here?"

"The NSA team will perform their functions while you retain overall strategic control. Tactical will revert to Agent Miller as soon as he's physically able. He and Agent Hansen-Miller make quite a team. Keep me advised. That is all."

* * *

><p>Carina practically sprinted out of the conference area and made her way quickly to the infirmary where Chuck was being checked out. Agents Winkler and Fulton hurried to catch up with her. Their principal was unguarded and they'd already failed once and had no intention of doing so again.<p>

Carina walked into the 4-bed hospital room and checked to make sure that Chuck was the only patient. His bed was the first one in the room and the others had drapes pulled around them, probably for privacy but they were empty.

Carina sat down carefully on the edge of the bed and took stock of her partner/lover and didn't like what she saw at all. One eye was swollen shut and it looked like his nose was broken again. Chuck's lip was swollen and he had a nasty rope burn on his neck. She couldn't see under the gown but that would wait for later.

"SARA, can you hear me? C'mon, SARA, I need to know how he's doing."

'He would be better if you left me alone to finish my tasks. He was beaten and interrogated and if your team hadn't arrived when you did, he would have been severely tortured. As it was, he was subjected to repeated electrical shocks and I put him 'to sleep' during the worst of it. He'll be fine, Carina. In 24 hours the bruises will have faded but the memory will still be with him.'

"Can I talk with him, SARA, just for a second? I was so frightened and I really need to talk with him. Please?"

'No, not now. There is internal bleeding that I need to get under control and I need all our energy to focus on that, not your need for reassurance.'

"Fine. I'll be back in a couple of hours. If he wakes up enough to talk, tell him that I love him and that I'll be here just as soon as he's able to stay awake, okay?"

'Tell him yourself. Come back in two, no, make that _four_ hours. Now, please, I need to focus. Some of my subroutines were corrupted by the electrical shocks and I need to clean them up to maximize my effectiveness. Just go, Carina. He's in my capable hands.'

Carina left and asked that the agents posted at the door inform her if the doctor had test results or if Chuck awakened.

'Is she gone, SARA?'

_'Yes, but I don't like lying to her, Chuck. She is your partner and your love, she deserves to know the truth. How are you feeling?'_

'Like I got beat up by my Dad's two Lebanese toughs and then tied to a chair and strangled almost to death. How the hell do you think I feel?'

'_Sarcasm? Charles, we have had this discussion before, have we not? It was your idea, tough guy, to protect Professor Bartowski. It was a little over the top, even for you, Agent Charles Miller.'_

'There was no time. The tracker implant pushed us too far, too fast. Besides, I couldn't let him suck you out of my head, babe. You're too precious to me, SARA, surely you know that by now?'

_'I know but a girl likes to hear it from time to time…'_

'Carina will be back soon. I think we need to talk. It's about time we cleared the air and reached some semblance of a plan for our futures.'

_'You wish to marry her, do you not? Why now? Another of your premonitions?'_

'I thought you liked Carina and approved of her?'

_'Oh, Chuck, I love Carina as much as you do but she is a liability to us and as you told me once: liabilities get us killed.'_

'That's a risk that I'm more than willing to take. Any objections?'

'_Just remind me about us once in a while, Chuck. You are so lucky to have me…' _

SARA almost giggled but couldn't even if she wanted to. Her sense of humor was apparently the last emotion to fully develop. Her earlier laughter had been 'copies' of the sarcastic laughter from the '_Honeymooners' _laugh track and carried no real emotion no matter how hard she tried.

_'That was a joke, Chuck.'_

'No. It wasn't and you damned well know it.' SARA felt more than heard the emotion behind his thoughts. It wasn't a joke to her either.

* * *

><p>Two hours later<br>Embassy Medical

The two agents stopped her at the door and started to frisk her and she glowered at them and told them that if she wanted him dead, she could kill him with her thumb and finger in less than 30 seconds. Shrugging off their concerns, Sarah walked slowly into the ward and pulled up a hard wooden chair and sat as close to the bed as possible.

The room was cool and smelled like disinfectant and somehow seeing him here was like old times. Sarah took his hand in hers and thought about how right they felt together.

'Samantha Walker, he is not yours. You know that. You had your chance and blew it, girlfriend. You never should have abandoned him, crushed his wonderful spirit, followed your orders instead of your own heart and now it is too late. He loves her, Samantha, as much as he did you but she did not turn from him. Yes, she is a liability and someday she will, as he says, 'get us fucked up', but we risk everything for her just as he was willing to risk everything for you once.'

"But…"

_'Be patient. Wait. Or move on.'_

"That's it? That's your take on the situation?"

_'Yes. I need to work on repairs. You need to make decisions. The future is uncertain. It was nice talking with you, Agent Samantha Walker. Perhaps we might speak again.'_

* * *

><p>Ten days later<p>

The team was spread out along the wadi that bordered the dirt track that caravans had used for the last thousand years or so. The command-detonated land mines had been in place since the previous afternoon and now began the long waiting game.

According to Walker, the 4-vehicle convoy had left the Syrian city of Hom and was due to pass through this series of torturous switchbacks that were required because of the network of wadis that ran through this plateau.

"Chuck, I still say we should just bag this and head back to our ranch and let you have a few more weeks of recovery. Beckman would agree with me if you'd just let me talk with the old bag. Winkler and Fulton are strung tighter than guitar strings and I think they'd appreciate the break. Please, just think about it."

"You just want to skinny-dip in the stream near the cottonwood grove. After these series of ops, we'll go home, babe. Maybe head on over to the Yucatan and find a nice village church and get a priest to marry us."

Carina put her head on her forearm and closed her eyes. It had been his obsession lately. To get married. She wanted to wait and concentrate on finding out who was bankrolling 'Jill the Non-Flyer'. They had nothing on who had kidnapped him from the airport and that meant, to her at least, that Jill's 'friends' were still out there waiting to get their hands on him.

Her earbud chirped and she heard Winker say 'Here comes the first vehicle. Holy shit, it's an armored car of some kind!'

"This is Chuck. Withdraw. We engage when we have fire superiority. Rally at the vehicle park."

He watched as the three team members withdrew to the safety of their vehicles some 500 meters away and turned back to the ambush site and smiled. It was a feral smile.

He let the 'armored car' pass. SARA told him that it was a South African Casspir and sported a 20mm 'main gun'. The mines they'd laid wouldn't scratch the paint but the next 3 vehicles were 'soft' and were meat for the grinder.

Chuck waited until the lead truck was over the first mine and detonated all three. Two trucks were totaled and the 3rd ended up in a ditch off the side of the track. He packed up his gear and hightailed it down the wadi to the rally point.

The Casspir began peppering the hillside on the wrong side of the track with 20mm cannon fire. No one heard Chuck's laughter as he dragged ass along the wadi. They had struck the first blow against the Ring. There would be more but better safe than dead.


	21. Some Things Never Change

Sorry for the delays. Not dead yet. I'll try and finish this and 17 before too long.

OM

* * *

><p>Chapter 21<p>

He lost Carina and Winkler on the 4th ambush.

They'd driven through the mountains and across the Bekaa Valley and laagered in an abandoned village for 3 days waiting for Beirut to develop intel on the target dates and composition. The CIA had a mole in the operation and they were waiting for him to report.

One moment they were running down the dry wadi after triggering their ambush and the next they were covered in dirt and rocks. One of the armored cars had either seen something or lucked out because the 75mm round landed between the four, killing Carina and Winkler instantly.

Chuck was dazed when Fulton pulled him to his feet and shoved him along in the direction of their laagered vehicle. The Syrians had definitely seen _something_ because 3 more cannon rounds hit within meters of the first. There was little to go back for but when Chuck turned to go back for Carina, Fulton hit him with a butt stroke and threw his unconscious body over his shoulder and ran towards their truck.

Chuck was awakened, if that term was proper, by the bouncing of the utility truck as it moved across the rough plains towards the mountains and Lebanon.

"I'll cut you loose if you promise not to kill me with any of your Kung Fu shit, Boss." Fulton looked over at him, trying to judge his mood. He'd use zip ties to secure his hands and had belted him in over his arms. He knew that Miller was a vicious fighter and had no desire to fight him, especially now.

"No, Bobby, I'm not going to try to kill you. Where are we?" He felt…empty and idle conversation was not going to do anything much to fill the void.

"About 20km from our extraction site. I called it in and the embassy is sending a chopper. We'll abandon the vehicle and make some shepherd happy. Chuck…I had to do it. I had to get you out of there. I guess I'm sorry I hit you but…"

"Bygones. The bodies?" He didn't want to dwell on the past few hours. He'd deal with them in the privacy of his quarters. He had to stay strong and focused.

"Very little…left. I went back after securing you to the truck and there…there wasn't much to retrieve so I just piled rocks over the…the remains." He swallowed hard. There were only pieces of people left. Nothing recognizable and nothing to be 'brought out' for a proper burial. The cannon fire had basically pulverized the area.

Chuck nodded, feeling strangely detached from everything. "Okay, let's get moving then."

_'Chuck…I'm sorry. We loved her and now all we have are memories. I'll release them when we're alone, okay?_'

'I had a feeling you'd intervened somehow. I suppose it's better that I fall apart in private. Thanks for that. I – I don't know what I'm going to do now, SARA. I'm all alone again…'

_'You're not alone, baby. You still have me and I'll try and be more active now that you're…is it wrong for me to feel strangely about Carina? Is…is this hollowness what you feel, Chuck?'_

'Yeah. Look, I'm not ready for this…not right now.'

_'Sleep, Chuck…I'll watch your back…always.'_

Bobby Fulton glanced over at his team leader and saw a single tear track and then shuddered. _'That's one cold dude…asleep!'_

* * *

><p>Extraction site<p>

The French-built Cougar transport helicopter landed and a squad of mercenaries formed a perimeter while the two team members boarded. The squad pulled back and got on the transport and they were gone in less than 3 minutes.

Chuck sat quietly looking out at the bleak countryside through the open ramp. He wasn't in the mood to talk so Fulton handled the post-op report to the embassy. His call was rerouted to NSA operations and Casey took the line.

"How's he handling the situation?" Casey knew that Chuck and Carina were planning on tying the knot as soon as the operation in the Middle East was over but now…

"He's quiet. Slept the whole way from the rally point to the pick-up site. That's one cold dude, Colonel. One tear…that's all I saw, sir. What are your orders?"

"Come home. The operation's terminated. Orders and tickets will be waiting for you both at the embassy. I'll debrief you both when you get home. Keep an eye on him. We'll talk again in a few days."

* * *

><p>Casey was really concerned now. The 'Chuck' he knew would have demanded a 'recovery team' to extract the remains of his team. He would never have left the site without the bodies. Never.<p>

Casey does something totally unCasey-like. He calls Sarah Walker at her office in the CIA building in Langley.

She answers the phone professionally, tersely, brusquely, as if the call is an interruption that might affect the fate of the Free World. Maybe it does.

"Walker."

She was dating a man from the State Department whom she'd met at a conference on Narco-Terrorism and things were 'progressing'. She knew he had someone else in his life but it was fine with her. She had someone else in her life, too, and as long as he didn't do anything to overtly embarrass her, she was fine with it.

They both knew it was primarily job-related. Walker needed someone who would share what State had and she needed and she'd reciprocate so long as it was to her long-term advantage. She was only two positions from her ultimate goal and nothing would get in the way.

"Sarah, John Casey. Have you heard?" He hated talking with her but felt the need to bring her back 'into the fold' if only to help his friend, the Moron.

"Can't you be a little more specific, Colonel? I have literally thousands of tidbits I haven't had time to review."

"Carina Miller is dead. Half the team was killed in an operation in Lebanon and the Moron's not showing any, repeat, any signs of grief, sadness, nothing human. I'd say that was more than one of your damned 'tidbits', Walker, considering how you profited from his involvement in Lebanon."

Her temper flared as it usually did whenever she had to speak with Casey. He was a constant reminder of what she'd lost and she hated those reminders although they were becoming less of an annoyance as time passed.

"What do you want, Colonel Casey? It seems to me like you got what you and Beckman wanted so damned badly, a real spy for the intersect host." She knew what he wanted and she knew she'd drop everything to do it, too. _Damn him!_ She wasn't sure if she meant Casey or _him._

"A few days, certainly not more than that, to talk with him and see if you can crack that frikkin' shell he's built around himself. He's a danger to himself and any mission he'd go on. He's always had a soft spot for you and maybe…"

She cut him off. "No, John. I – I can't do it. I'm sorry. You're asking too much. To enable him to mourn another woman…it's heartless of you to ask me to do it. I'm sorry."

She hung up. That part of her life was over. She told herself that and 'herself' scoffed. She'd never be over _him_, not in a thousand years. She called her secretary and told him to reschedule her as 'at NSA' for the next week and to cancel all appointments and meetings.

* * *

><p>Casey cursed out loud, shocking his admin assistant who'd just walked in with the files he'd requested – files of candidates for Chuck's new partner.<p>

"Sorry, Hildy, I just lost my temper. I told you there'd be days like this. I didn't think there would be so damned many of them."

* * *

><p>Four hours from BWI Airport<br>Baltimore, MD

The flight from Paris had been long and Chuck had slept most of it. Fulton had sat across the aisle from him and noted how, even asleep, he seemed 'remote' from the other passengers. He hardly moved at all, waking only for the in-flight meal service and then he'd had two Scotches and hit the head for a few minutes and then had put back his seat and slept.

'_Chuck, you have to accept the fact that she's gone. At least it was quick and she didn't suffer. Take some solace in that, Chuck.'_

'She was only 33, SARA, and had only begun to live. We were…well, you know. It's not fair of you to cut me off from so much of her. You can't just 'partition' sad memories away. I have to grieve, SARA, or I'll…Hell, I don't know what I'll do. It's not healthy for human beings not to grieve the loss of a loved one.'

'_Tonight. When we're alone and no one can hear or bother us. Tonight I'll give her back to you. All of her. Then you can 'grieve' and get it out of your system.'_

SARA didn't understand the need for this emotion. Grief was the most difficult for her since she had no experience, either programmatically or practically, with the grieving process. If she was honest with Chuck, she thought it was a tremendous waste of resources, but she'd 'humor' him. She 'loved' him and found saying 'no' to him almost impossible to do.

SARA knew all about Chuck Bartowski from his memories. She knew how much family meant to him and she was forming a plan that would take them home to Burbank and his sister. The beach. She'd let him mourn Carina at the beach. Somehow it seemed appropriate.

Unfortunately for her plans, Chuck had already made a decision on his immediate future. First he'd deal with Casey and his 'concerns' and then he'd talk with the General. _She_ would understand and approve of his actions because it would give her a victory she sorely needed and because it was the right thing to do.

He would need a new identity, possibly a partner, an expendable partner without dependents or attachments. He vetoed Fulton immediately. Sometimes Casey was so damned transparent. No one got two former secret service protective detail agents as 'partners' unless they were 'high risk' individuals.

Satisfied, he put back his airline seat and slept, unbothered by dreams, until he felt the plane begin to descend and then he was awake and alert and ready to put things into motion.

He was going hunting.

* * *

><p>BWI Airport<p>

Casey met them personally, a sure sign that there were concerns about his 'situation'. He actually hugged Chuck one-armed and then waved Fulton on out to the car.

"Chuck, I'm sorry about Carina. I…I know how hard it is to lose a partner, especially one as special as Carina. The general wants to meet with you sometime tomorrow but I need an hour or two before you take off for your quarters."

"Yeah. I need a new partner, John. But I want one with no dependents and no attachments. Someone fresh that will take orders and not get his or her head blown off, okay? Those are my only conditions otherwise I'll just go it alone."

"That's not an option, moron. You know better. You're the damned host and if Beckman hadn't been forced into a cooperative operation with the CIA this never would have happened."

"Yeah, but it did. Oh, and no one from the CIA either, John. Just pick a newbie from the family." He meant the NSA.

"That's what I want to talk with you about. I have a stack of files for you to review. They're all family but I don't know about dependents. You'll have to ferret them out yourself when you do the interviews."

"That's fair. I'll start as soon as I get to headquarters. The sooner that's over, the sooner I get back in the game." He changed the subject, intending to get Casey's mind off him and onto something else.

"So how's Eve Grimaldi these days? Still recruiting in Pennsylvania?" It was a dig. John and Eve Shaw had a love-hate relationship going. He couldn't pass up the chance to needle him about it.

"Let it go, moron. She's impossible to deal with and the few times we've gone out have ended less than satisfactorily for either of us. We always end up arguing about the implications of implantation. She still thinks you need to be 'put down' as she'd been ordered to do if you showed the slightest signs of instability."

"Well, I guess it's a good thing the patch worked then, right, Colonel Casey?" Another dig.

"We don't know if it worked or not. That's the problem. Your performance has been carefully monitored and that stunt in Beirut really made Grimaldi think you'd turned."

"Stunt? I was fucking kidnapped and then beaten half to death. Jesus, what does it take to convince people I'm not going to turn to the Dark Side?"

* * *

><p>NSA HQ<br>FT Meade, MD

Out of 12 applicants, Chuck rejected 6 because they were married or had dependents. He set up interviews for the remaining 6 candidates and then went to grab something to eat in the canteen. He had to meet with the General sometime the next day 'at her discretion' and was finalizing his plan presentation and pushing a chef's salad around with a fork.

"Is this seat taken?" The voice belonged to one of the last people he wanted to deal with. Walker.

"I was just finishing up, Agent, er, excuse me, Director Walker. Sit," he gestured to the seat opposite him but Sarah sat beside him at the small table.

"I'm sorry about Carina, Chuck. She was my best friend and I'll miss her. You must be devastated and yet…" She took his hand just as she had on the trawler, holding it tightly as if he'd bolt.

"I – I do miss her. I'm not sure it's really sunk in yet. I never saw her body. My team mate knocked me out and carried me to the rally point. We lost two that day."

She watched his face, his eyes, but saw no change except for the initial stumble. Casey was right. He was wound up tighter that a cheap watch.

She pulled him to his feet and he saw how her eyes were shining with unshed tears. "Let's go get a drink someplace and talk, Chuck. We'll toast Carina and just talk, okay? Please?"

"Let's get a bottle and drink in my quarters. It's a two bedroom suite so if we get too drunk, you won't have to drive back to DC." He didn't know she was staying across the hall from his room.

* * *

><p>VIP Quarters<p>

Sarah looked around and sniffed. Her quarters were considerably less…appointed? Obviously Chuck ranked up there in Beckman's eyes.

Chuck filled two tumblers with ice and then poured the bourbon into each and handed Sarah one. "Here's to Carina Hansen-Miller…" He choked up and drank his bourbon and turned and refilled his glass.

"Chuck, talk to me. We used to talk all the time but since the damned trawler you've been distant and…and unfriendly. I'm not trying to take Carina's place, Chuck…"

'…_at least not yet.'_

Sarah moved across the room and sat on the couch and slipped off her shoes, pulling her bare legs up onto the couch. She was wearing a short skirt and wished she'd worn jeans. She patted the cushion next to her and looked at him pointedly.

Chuck was beginning to feel the effects of the bourbon and sat down, leaning towards her and waiting for her to speak. Instead, she grabbed his left wrist and pulled it over her shoulder and snuggled into his warmth. He stiffened but the relaxed. This was Sam, nothing was going to happen. She understood how he felt and why.

"Tell me all about you and Carina and Mexico, Chuck. I feel empty when I think about her. She was my best friend." She wanted him talking, hoping that at some point 'Chuck from Burbank' would appear and release all the pent-up emotions stored within.

He rambled on in a disjointed way, stopping periodically to refresh his drink and gather his thoughts. Then he made a mistake, or perhaps SARA did because he started talking about things from _before._

"It was hard for me to turn away from you emotionally, Samantha. It was the hardest thing I'd ever done except for letting their bodies rot in that Syrian ditch. I felt so alone and…and…I needed you so badly…"

The tears came and became breath-gulping sobs of sorrow, regret and loss. It was almost too much for him and SARA took over, putting him into a real, although alcoholically enhanced sleep.

'He will sleep now, Samantha. Thank you for your assistance. I will put him to bed and have him call you in the morning.'

His eyes opened and somehow he stood and walked into the bedroom. He stripped off his clothes efficiently and crawled into bed. Sarah watched, still finding hard to believe that a _program_ could assume command of his body even though she'd seen it before.

She made a decision and followed him into the bedroom, stripping off and folding her clothing and crawling into bed with him. She hadn't noticed that SARA had stripped off _all_ his clothing.

'He prefers to sleep this way,' the program answered her unvoiced question. Not deterred at all, she slid her panties off and kicked them aside.

"Agent Walker, he will sleep now. I hope he feels better now that he's released all that pent up regret and emotional distress. He's so simple and yet so complex. All he wants is someone to love him as he loves her. No conditions, no reservations.'

"He has me, SARA. Please go do whatever it is you do when he sleeps. I'd like some privacy." All she wanted to do was hold him and provide comfort should he awaken.

'Don't hurt him again, Walker. You won't like what happens.' It was a clear threat and Sarah respected it. "I won't."

A/N: Remember the title. Consider the words. Carefully.


	22. Chapter 22

Chara or Charah?

Read and find out. I just love getting all your hopes up.

OM

* * *

><p>Chapter 22<p>

He was awakened by the damned dream again but a quiet voice hushed his moan and then pulled him into a warm and soft embrace and he fell back into a dreamless sleep.

Chuck woke up feeling groggy and his eyes itched but other than that, he felt fine, better than he had since Carina died. It seemed easier to think about her being dead now than earlier and that surprised him.

'SARA, are you diddling with my memories again?'

_'No, Chuck. You are just adjusting to your new situation. Samantha helped you last night.'_

'Oh, right, I guess I passed out on her. Well, look…'

He suddenly realized that he was not alone in his bed and that Samantha was splayed across him, her head on his chest and her arms loosely around him. Chuck froze, racking his brain for some reason why they were both naked. He couldn't remember…

'_She held you all night, Chuck, nothing else. Even Samantha knows that it is too soon for anything more than comfort. Be nice to her, Chuck. She's trying to find a place in your life again, even if it is just as a friend.'_

'I'm getting a new partner, SARA. Samantha's a CIA deputy director now and I doubt the field appeals to her anymore. She's finally getting the recognition and position she deserves. You know what my plans are for the immediate future. There's no place for Samantha in my life. I let her go once. Now it's her turn to let go - literally.'

'_You are without a doubt the most stubborn and stupid man I have ever known, Chuck. She's here by choice. She knows what you need and you are just too stubborn and pig-headed to accept her again. You need someone in your life…'_

He interrupted her rambling diatribe with a curt 'I have _you_, SARA. I don't need anyone else. If you were a corporal being, as you refer to me, I'd have a partner I could trust implicitly but you're not so I need a new partner and it cannot be Samantha, understand?'

'_Carina is dead. You and I both know she was your second choice so quit lying to yourself and take what is being offered. Few get a second chance, Chuck. I am not a person, Chuck, and despite how I feel, I will never be able to even hug you, or hold your hand or offer, er, so…I think you should…'_

'SARA, you _are _a person to me. You are my other half, my soul-mate, pun intended.'

'_Ah, humor. I get it. Yes. Ha, ha, ha. Very funny.'_

'Remember what you once said about sarcasm?'

'_I remember everything. Would you like a play-back?'_

Sarah had been awake for some time and was simply enjoying being right where she was. She could sense the change in Chuck and had a feeling he was trying to make sense out of his current state. No doubt SARA was updating him and now he'd probably freak out and…_Oh – My…_

She felt his warm hand run down her spine under the sheet and settle firmly on her left buttock, cupping it and then she heard his sigh. It was an intimate moment and the sigh carried so much emotion. Sarah let her hand snake up his ribs and settle on his shoulder and she raised herself up and looked down at his face in the dim light that filtered through the closed drapes.

"Morning, Chuck. Please don't freak out. Nothing happened and nothing will happen. I know it's way too soon but I'm patient. Nothing has changed the way I feel about you. If anything, I want you more than ever. This is the way it should have been in Burbank, Chuck." She cupped his cheek and looked into his eyes, hoping he could tell that her words were the truth and not something else.

"I was a fool for not dragging you to my hotel room and having my wicked way with you. So much of the pain and anger you feel would have been avoided if I'd just ignored my orders and followed my heart…I'm sorrier than you can ever imagine, Chuck."

He felt a moment of bitterness towards her but quickly squelched it when SARA blurted out '_She followed her orders, Chuck, hoping to have a chance to get back together with you but Beckman had her promoted instead. Don't you think it strange that Carina just __happened__ to be the operative in Mexico?'_

He hadn't thought about it and dismissed it as coincidence.

'_Beckman does everything for a reason, Chuck. Quit being so damned stubborn and admit that you were being manipulated by an expert, outsmarted by a little old lady general with more brains than even you have. She's the consummate chess player, Chuck, and she's had you in 'check' every step of the way.'_

'SARA, that's a load of crap and you damned well know it! Quit messing with my mind, will ya? I have to…'

'_Sorry, Chuck, but you need a reminder…' _and she dumped the partitions holding back all the memories that SARA had kept from him and it was a mistake and she knew it the instant she felt him cry out in despair.

"Chuck! My God, what's wrong?" Samantha was on her knees beside him, holding him while he sobbed against her breast.

"SARA! What have you done to him?" The anger overwhelmed her concern for him and she focused all her wrath on the 'program'.

SARA knew that if she could turn back time she would and never hurt her Chuck in such a devastating way. Still, what was done was done. She couldn't turn back the clock. 'I have simply restored his memories that I'd partitioned away to protect him from harm. He needed a reminder of his status in the spy world and so I gave him – several pertinent examples.'

There was a smugness to her words that Sarah felt even though it was Chuck's voice saying them. It was enough to trigger Sarah's temper.

"You damned bitch of a program! He has feelings, emotions and you've hurt him more than you know. Look at what you've done!" she meant Chuck in the throes of an emotional meltdown.

'It was necessary to remind him of the role he plays in Beckman's Great Game. If it makes any difference to you at all, Samantha, the memories were all about you and how Beckman has manipulated the two of you for her own purposes.'

Sarah wanted to knock that tone right out of her mouth but realized that to do so meant hurting Chuck and she was frustrated and stymied at not being able to hurt SARA as she'd hurt Chuck.

"You're worse than Beckman could ever be because you did this to him for no reason other than because you could. Damn you, SARA! Damn you for hurting him like this!" All she could do was swear at the program while stroking his head and wanting nothing more than to rip the damned thing from his head. It hurt him. Yes…IT…it was just a collection of instructions written by government programmers.

SARA felt a new series of flashes through her network and labeled it as 'remorse'. She had hurt Chuck and Samantha was right. She only did it because she could.

'I…I am sorry, Samantha. I…hurt my Chuck and I never wanted to do so…'

"Tough shit. He's a wreck. He needs to sleep and when he wakes up, I'll be here and together we'll work out some way to…"

'He is getting a new partner per Beckman's orders. He and Colonel Casey will be meeting later this afternoon to go over the candidates. You will be returning to your administrative position as Deputy Director of Covert Operations. Perhaps one day…'

"There is no 'perhaps' about it, SARA. We're destined to be together and I don't care what I have to do or who I have to kill, no one, not even a Self Aware Resident Artificial Intelligence is going to thwart our destiny. Put that in your central processor and process it!"

She stormed away from the bed and then stopped. _Where was Chuck during all this? He'd been quietly crying and then…_

"Chuck…Chuck, can you hear me? I meant exactly what I said so unless she's cut off your audio…you're mine – maybe not today but someday. And SARA, can you do this for him?"

She hugged him and pressed a kiss into his hair and sighed when she felt his hand in the small of her back. Of course not. She had the physical upper hand and it only came into play while she was with him so…

"Game on, you neurological parasitic bitch. You might be able to control his memories and manipulate them to you own benefit but I can be more to him than some emotional filter! I can love him and give him physical intimacy while all you can do is mind fuck him!"

Sarah got dressed, kissed Chuck soundly and left his room. She was on a mission.


	23. A New Partner

Chapter 23

NSA Headquarters  
>FT Meade, MD<p>

"Ok, Moron, here are your choices. I've winnowed through them and tossed the ones that I _know_ you would reject out of hand and also those that would probably want to kill _you_ after a few weeks. Take your time, Chuck. Beckman says it's your choice."

He didn't stare at Chuck like he would have any other agent who came in looking like he'd been emotionally destroyed. He knew what grieving was like and he had too much affection and respect for Bartowski to draw attention to his situation. Losing Carina had obviously taken a heavy toll.

Chuck stared at the stack of folders and then at Casey's departing back and sighed. He hated this part. The decision was his but he hated to dig through all the bios and reports. He should just have had the General set up a mini-download and just dump them into his head.

In three hours he'd culled the stack until only 4 candidates remained. Whoever he selected had to have strengths that would either complement his or offset his weaknesses. Four women, all young, bright eyed and bushy tailed, and so damned naive. He sighed and then leaned back in the chair and drank another cup of coffee.

He'd definitely need a trained sniper so that eliminated _her_ and he tossed the file into the 'reject' pile. Only three more possibilities.

Another sip of coffee and another file. Oops, engaged to a Marine officer. Nope. Too many entanglements. No liabilities or distractions to mess things up. Nope_. Have a nice life, Millicent Farrar_, he thought, as he tossed her file in the 'reject' pile. _Get out of the Agency while you still can and marry your Marine and make babies._

He opened one of the remaining two files and grinned. _Jessica Simpson._ He could imagine the razzing the young woman had to put up with. She looked nothing at all like _the_ Jessica Simpson. She had a dark complexion, high cheekbones and a subtle epicanthic eye fold that hinted at a mixed-race Asian heritage. She was the oldest of the group at 29, divorced before joining the Agency, and had no dependents. _A possible._

He pulled out the final folder and choked on his coffee. The woman was a dead-ringer for his sister, Eleanor, except for the eye color and slightly lighter brunette hair. Nope. She would be a subtle distraction every time he looked at her. A definite no-no.

_Well, well, well. I'm going to partner with Jessica Simpson. If only I could tell Morgan, _he thought with a grin.

He called Casey and informed him of his choice and asked him to arrange an interview for the following day. He returned the files to the secure lockbox where someone would return them to central files and went back to his room. He wanted to shower and take a short nap before his dinner appointment that evening with the General.

'_Chuck, please talk to me'._

'No. You're in my head and I can't do much about it but if you want idle conversation, you can always just take over and spill your memory banks and provide someone with a good laugh. I'm so angry with you right now that if I thought I could get you out of my head…'

'_I said I was sorry and I meant it. I never meant to hurt you, Chuck. We are soul mates, remember? Hurting you hurt me, too.'_

'I don't think that's possible. Look, just go do whatever it is you do and leave me alone.'

'_How long will you stay angry, Chuck?'_

'I'm still pissed at my 11th grade Physics teacher for giving me a 'B'.'

'_Oh.'_

* * *

><p>Beckman's office<p>

While Chuck was perusing files looking for a new partner, Sarah Walker was badgering Diane Beckman to assign her as Chuck's new partner.

"Director Walker, you're mistaken if you think the CIA will allow you to step down in order to resume field activities. You pose too much of a liability were you to fall captive or worse. You've made a significant contribution to the Combine and I see a great career ahead of you. Isn't that what you want?"

"I thought it was, once. It was all I'd ever dreamed of…the power and prestige and the influence but not anymore. I've lost sight of my true desires, probably because of the after-effects of the implant and my own stupidity. I want to partner with Agent Bartowski. It's where I belong and he needs me now, more than ever. He's fragile and…"

"I will consider it if you can get a signed release from your parent Agency but I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you, Director."

"You'll sabotage that, too, I suppose, just like you've manipulated Chuck and I from the on-set. We'll see. I have my own Ace in the hole, General. I'm 'all in' on this."

Beckman almost smiled at the younger woman's naïveté. She had much too learn and some of the lessons were hard and bitter but if Walker was to advance and grow, she needed to learn those lessons as soon as possible. There was no place for sentimentality in the rarified ranks she'd move to if she kept her current position and kept her eyes on the prize.

"Get a release and I'll consider it."

* * *

><p>Senior Officers Mess<br>FT Meade, MD

Dinner was served in the private dining room reserved for senior officers. The General asked Chuck several penetrating questions regarding his 'state of mind' although so long as he could flash and function, she wasn't overly concerned.

"You asked for this appointment, Agent. What's really on your mind?"

"I want to do to the Ring what we did to the Cartels in Mexico. I want you to identify a lower-ranking operative with 'ambitions' within their chain of command. My team will begin eliminating random members until I feel comfortable about your selection. I'll approach him or her and tell them they're next unless they can pay more than my 'client'. Eventually the conversation will get around to who's behind the eliminations and it will sow further dissent."

"How long do you think it will take until you 'approach' the target?" She liked the audacity of his plan. It was a proven approach but had serious risks she wasn't sure she wanted the 'host' to take.

"Three or four 'eliminations' so figure three to six months. It depends a lot on the response of the Inner Circle. Six months at the longest."

"I'll have a list of possible targets and their positions as soon as possible. Now, let's talk about the future, Chuck. I want you to have a team backing you up and…"

"General, I've selected a new partner assuming she doesn't run screaming out the door after I brief her on the bare bones of the operation. I'm meeting with her tomorrow afternoon if Casey can set up the interview. The smaller the group, the less chance there will be for leaks to develop."

She couldn't fault his logic regarding leaks and she was surprised he hadn't mentioned Director Walker since he's spent the night with her. She'd trust his judgment and approve his new partner.

The remainder of the dinner was spent in quiet conversation until the General got a call and had to leave. Chuck returned to his quarters.

'_She agreed much too easily, Chuck. She has an agenda and the Ring is but one facet of it.'_

'She gets what she wants and I get what I want. Win-win. Now, go do something else.'

_'Chuck…'_

'What part of 'I don't want to talk to you' don't you understand?'

'_You are the most stubborn and…'_

'I'm 'enery the eighth I am, 'enery the eighth I am, I am…' He knew that his constant singing would drive her to distraction and he was right.

'Arrrrg…I'm going…'

* * *

><p>Conference Room<br>NSA Headquarters

Agent Jessica Simpson was nervous. She wiped her sweaty palms on the legs of her dark slacks and leaned back in the comfortable leather chair that was one of several grouped around the small circular table. She wore a black cowl sweater and no jewelry except for a pair of diamond ear studs and a watch. Her nails were unpainted and short.

This interview was important to her and her career. She knew she was a 'late starter' and the opportunity to serve with an experienced agent didn't come often.

She'd heard all about Charles Bartowski – if the rumors being bandied about the cafeteria and lounge could be considered reliable. He went through partners and team mates like shit through a goose and she had no desire to be listed as either 'killed or missing' as had his last string of partners – again, if rumors and gossip were accurate.

She wanted a challenging assignment, yes, but not one that would be her last. She was checking out her makeup when she heard the conference door open and close. She fumbled putting her compact away and so was surprised when a cup of coffee was thrust in front of her.

"I checked – black with sugar – the same way I drink mine." He noticed that she was nervous and tried to put her at ease.

"Despite what you may or may not have heard, I do not spend my partners like loose change. I've only had two since I joined the Agency but I was a 'handled asset' for three years and one of my handlers became my partner – Colonel Casey." He sat down across from her and opened her file for something to do. He was nervous also.

The statement surprised her. It was almost as if he'd read her mind or knew of the same rumors and gossip she'd heard. She felt a little better and so she asked the question that anyone would ask in the same position.

"What happened to your last partner, Agent Bartowski?" She was startled at his sudden change in attitude. If he'd been 'warm' when he spoke earlier, his demeanor was now that of an iceberg. She thought she saw his eyes shimmer with unshed tears but she dismissed it immediately. _This guy is hard as nails. I must be mistaken._

"Carina was killed on our last operation in Syria. We had just successfully ambushed a Ring convoy smuggling drugs into Lebanon and when were pulling back to the rally point – someone saw something and she and another team mate were killed instantly by shell fire from an armored car. There…there was nothing I could have done. One minute she was laughing at the success of the operation and the next she was…gone. Look, give me a minute."

He stood up abruptly and walked over to the window and stared out at the parking lot below. Jessica Simpson wondered about his reaction and response. _'Those had been tears in his eyes.'_ She was curious about the relationship between him and 'Carina' and why he was being sent back to the field when he was obviously emotionally unstable but knew better than to ask.

Chuck walked back and took his seat and looked at her appraisingly. "So, now you know about my deep and dark secret. I was in love with my partner. We were going to get married eventually. If this presents a problem in accepting this assignment, tell me now. I have a fall-back candidate if you chose not to accept but you are my preferred choice."

She made a snap decision. "I'm in." She'd be as safe with Bartowski as with any other partner and she felt comfortable knowing that he wouldn't be pawing at her, expecting something more than a professional partnership given his recent loss.

"Okay then. There are some things you need to know about me. Welcome to Team Intersect…"

Her eyes widened and then she started paying attention to the story her new partner told her.


	24. Ambush amid the Lies

Only 2 chapters remaining.

OM

* * *

><p>Chapter 24<p>

CIA Headquarters  
>Langley, VA<p>

She looked at her calendar and cursed. It was his birthday and she'd totally forgotten to…do something special for him. She shook her head. _I don't even know where he is or what he's doing. Beckman's promises are worthless. I haven't been 'kept in the loop' as she'd promised me._

Her request for a transfer to the NSA and Chuck's team had been denied, of course. Maybe SARA had been right 5 months ago when she said Beckman had been manipulating them for her own purposes.

She took out her personal cell phone and flipped through the pictures she'd taken while he slept in his quarters at FT Meade. They were the only ones she had of him and they were precious to her. She missed him more than words could begin to express.

Realizing that losing herself in useless memories was counterproductive, Sarah pulled the next file from her in-box and opened it up. Someone had been stalking Ring operatives and eliminating them with a ruthless efficiency she could only admire. The latest and most spectacular assassination had been in Singapore just a few days earlier.

* * *

><p>Bali, Indonesia<p>

Jess sat at the breakfast bar eating scrambled eggs and toast and watching as her partner finished up his own breakfast. If anyone had told her five months earlier that she'd be one of four members of Team Intersect – well, she'd have asked what they'd been smoking.

"So, Chuck, what's on the agenda for today?" Their cover as newlyweds on their honeymoon in Asia was solid. Their personal relationship, however, was stiff, distant and totally professional when not in 'the cover'. He even called her 'Agent' when they were alone.

He never warmed to her as she'd hoped. Despite her initial pleasure at knowing she wouldn't have to 'put out' for her partner, she now wished he'd at least show her that he appreciated her efforts and presence. Even Beckman offered more praise for her performance than did her iceberg of a partner.

"I have to swing by the consulate and check on some files that should be waiting for us – identifying our next target. After that, we're free as can be. Why don't you and Bobby and Lynn hit the beach while I'm out and if the files are ready, we'll meet here before dinner and then plan our evening."

She sighed a little louder than she realized and she saw Chuck's shoulders tense up but still he said nothing. "Don't you think it'll look a little weird if the bride goes out alone with another couple? I mean, really, Chuck, you could show a little interest in the cover."

'_She's right, Chuck. You need to work the cover. You never know who might be watching. Beckman's warned you twice now that Jessica is dissatisfied with her partnership because of your attitude towards her and I – '_

'Maybe you should take over for a while then, SARA, since you're such an 'expert' on human interaction. She's a work partner, SARA, nothing more. Hell, she doesn't even like me down deep and it's obvious to me that – '

SARA's sudden laugh startled him and he almost dropped his coffee cup. She rarely displayed spontaneous emotions.

'_You're an idiot, Chuck. She needs feedback and reinforcement of her performance. You hardly speak to her and when you do…it's often cold and indifferent. Don't blame Sarah or Carina's absences on her, Chuck.'_

Jess had seen his sudden startle response and wondered what was going on in her partner's head. Should she report this as a 'symptom' to Beckman?

"Chuck? You okay? What is it?" If you wanted to know something from him, you had to ask since he rarely volunteered information unless it was mission-related.

"Yeah, I wasn't paying attention to what I was doing and I just spilled some coffee on my hand. No big deal, Jess. After I get back from the consulate what say we all have dinner and then hit the lights and get drunk and disorderly?"

"Chuck, are you serious? Really? Okay! I'll call Bobby and Lynn and give them a heads up." She was thrilled to get out of the suite and see what nightlife Bali had to offer. She was lonely even with her partner around. He seemed so closed off like he was protecting himself from her.

* * *

><p>US Consulate<br>Bali, Indonesia

Security was tight since the terrorist attack years before and Chuck had to present his passport and explain the reason for his visit. He was not in the mood for bureaucracy and made it known.

"I have business with the Cultural Attaché that far exceeds your pay grade, Corporal." The Marine was no dummy and knew the Attaché was the resident 'spook' and so he passed Chuck through the checkpoint.

He waited in the lobby until the Attaché found him and walked with him down to the 'secure room' where the communications gear Chuck needed was located.

"If there's anything else you require, let me know. Our local contacts here are very trustworthy so if you need 'muscle', let me know." The pretty brunette left him to do his job and returned to her office.

Chuck sat at a terminal and sent a conference request to Casey at NSA Headquarters. Given the hour, he was either just getting to work or had been there all night. The chime on the computer announced the connection and Casey's tired face appeared seconds later.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in! Anything to report?" He looked at Chuck, seeing more than a reflection of his own weariness.

"Just checking in, John. Got any subjects we need to 'discuss'?" He meant Ring operatives. The team was in Bali after taking out a mid-level Ring executive in Singapore. It had been messy but they got out of the country without any problems.

"Yeah, but you won't like it. Beckman's having second thoughts and making 'come home' noises. It seems like the Ring is finally getting its act together and we've lost a couple of our own and she's uncomfortable with a 'pissing contest'."

"Casey, we're making headway and if they're retaliating, then we've got them scared. We don't need to ease up. We need to strike harder and further up their chain of command or they'll think we're weak."

"Agreed, but don't go off half-cocked, moron. She's the boss and it's her decision. I'll send you the names of the next few targets but check with me before taking action. On another subject, Chuck…they tried to whack Walker but missed. She's got a…protective detail now. Shot up her precious Porsche and you know how she loved that damned car."

'_Chuck, Casey's lying! There's more to this thing than he's saying. His pupils are dilated and he's stressing the wrong words and using the past tense. Something's happened to Samantha!'_

"Yeah, John, she used to threaten me with dismemberment if I so much as dared bleed on her damned upholstery. Okay, I can see why Beckman's worried but it means we're scaring them and isn't that what we want?"

"She has her own morale problems to deal with. Speaking of which, your partner has requested reassignment due to 'compatibility' issues. What's up with that?" Casey had ignored Simpson's requests since the team was successful and 'personal' issues were just that – personal.

"Don't know and don't care. Get rid of her if you think it's best. Hell, John, this is her first field assignment and she's done very well as I've commented in reports. I'm not into 'personal' anymore, Casey. If she's insistent then send her someplace far away where she can't hurt us if she's taken."

"Fine but maybe if you lightened up a little bit…"

Chuck keyed in a disconnect command and left the room. He had no time for petty bullshit. He had a mission and it came first.

'_Chuck, that was childish. It sounds to me like the colonel only wants – '_

'He has his agenda and I have mine. If the Ring is striking back it means they're scared and that's just what I want. Review the entire conversation and analyze his comments. If he lied about Walker them there are other things he lied about.'

'_You are the most aggravating man I've ever known!'_

'I'm the _only_ man you've ever known, SARA.' He interpreted the silence as a minor victory. He'd finally had the last word.

* * *

><p>Neither of them noticed the man taking digital photographs of anyone entering or leaving the Consulate building from a shop across the boulevard.<p>

He was an employee of the Indonesian Security Service and sent the photo via email to his superiors after checking in with a 'paid informant' who was a Balinese receptionist at the Consulate who confirmed the man had met with the 'Cultural Attaché' who everyone knew was CIA.

He then sent the photo and a brief email to his 'other' employer in Geneva, Switzerland who was a member of the Ring Council for Security.

He lit a cigarette and watched as the man casually strolled down the wide boulevard towards the tourist hotels. He was almost out of sight when his other employer sent him an email: eliminate the American CIA agent and make it look like a terrorist attack.

The man smiled and mentally added the $5,000 he'd get for the assassination as he hopped on a motor scooter and weaved through traffic and followed the American to his hotel. A few phone calls set up the attack and he lit a cigarette and watched the lobby entrance.

The rest of the team was still at the beach or taking a tour so Chuck used the freedom to call a number on a burn cell he kept hidden in his luggage.

"I need a status on Deputy Director Sarah Walker of the CIA as soon as possible." A few comments were exchanged and Chuck disconnected the call and returned the cell phone to its hiding place. He'd have the truth in a few hours and then he'd know what to do next.

'_Chuck, do you really think Casey's hiding something from us? If so, to what end? It doesn't make any sense.'_

'That's because you still believe that good people never do bad things, SARA. In some respects, you're very innocent but I love that about you. I think I'm going to catch some Z's until the others return. Wake me if I get a call back, okay?'

'_I am not innocent, Chuck, just inexperienced. You don't ever let me out to play…' _That was followed by a giggle and Chuck snickered at how far she'd come in such a short time.

* * *

><p>The four agents took a small open cab down to the beach where the clubs and restaurants that catered to foreign tourists were located. They were all looking forward to an evening of good food and some fun. Chuck always felt comfortable near the ocean and he figured the Aussies that surfed Bali would always be up for a good time.<p>

Jessica worked the cover, hanging on Chuck like a newlywed and he felt guilty about how he'd been so distant but squelched it and set his mind to having a good time.

"So, Jess, just where are you hiding your pistol? I don't see any – " She leaned over and whispered that if he'd just loosen up a bit she'd let him find out for himself.

He just laughed and put his arm around her and relaxed. This was almost like normal and he craved normal on so many different levels. Jess was surprised at this but relaxed against him and just enjoyed being with him. He needed to relax and let go for once. He was wound tighter than a spring.

It was dusk when they left the hotel and dusk in the tropics is brief and so no one noticed the two motorcycles with girls on the back start bracketing the small tricycle cab. Bobby Foster was in the middle of telling a story about a US Senator who liked to dress up like a woman and cruise the bars when the first motorcyclist pulled along side their cab.

Chuck looked over and smiled at the beautiful young Balinese girl who was hanging onto her boyfriend but riding sidesaddle as custom demanded. She smiled back and then pulled an automatic pistol from her boyfriend's belt and started blasting away.

Chuck pushed Jess to the floor while yelling 'ambush left' just as the other motorcycle pulled up along side on the right and that girl passenger started firing but thankfully was a terrible shot and all her shots went wild except one that hit the girl on Chuck's side, knocking her off the motorcycle.

Their cab driver slammed on the brakes and the two cycles went tearing off into the night leaving their dead companion in the street. The shaken driver ran off and Lynn crawled up into the driver's seat and drove them back to the hotel.

* * *

><p>"Leave immediately. Split the team up into two flights and return to the US. We need to take time to recap what we've done, their response, and our future actions. Good work so far, damn good work. See you all here in three days."<p>

Casey disconnected the call and glanced over at his action board that Hildy kept updated. So far for each action that Team Intersect took, there was a response that seemed to say 'hurt us, we'll hurt you worse'. He was meeting with the General to consider future actions. So far the Ring had kept its responses within the CIA itself and no NSA assets had been targeted until Bali. The clowns at the CIA were running around trying to figure out what was going on and apparently still didn't have a clue.

The Computers at NSA had twigged to a cell phone conversation and a subsequent email that contained the alert phrase 'American CIA agent' and had determined the originating and terminating points: Bali and Geneva. He'd bring that little jewel up when he met with the General. They had GPS coordinates that translated into a small office building on the fringe of the residential district and an email address from a German Investment Bank that was located in the small office building. It sounded like the perfect operation for Team Intersect.

On another issue, he keyed a code into his computer and then reviewed the status on a certain agent: no change, still unresponsive. He sighed and closed out the window and got back to his schedule.


	25. Nearing the Finish Line

OK, let's get the morbid shit out of the way. I'm a short-timer and there's no reprieve. Don't bother with PMs or any of that other crap. I've got 7 months and I've had nearly 65 years and that's enough.

Thank Edgar Allen Dickenson the Canuck civil servant for reminding me of my final obligations. I will finish all this crap unlike Jim who copped out and died rather than admit to terminal writer's block. [Hey, he was my friend and I can say that]

* * *

><p>Chapter 25<p>

Bali Airport  
>Bali, Indonesia<p>

"Bobby, you and Lynn be damned careful on the flight home. Watch out for another attempt. Keep vigilant and don't let your guard down." He was shaking his hand and staring right into the man's eyes.

"We will. You and Jess do the same. I'm looking forward to that night of partying we missed in Bali, boss, so don't let _your guard down either." He looked over at Jess and gave her a nod and she nodded back. Chuck had been wound up tight before the attack but now he seemed almost manic in his words._

They stayed in the airport until their flight left and then the couple went back to their hotel suite to await their morning flight. Jess hung onto Chuck like a newlywed, working the cover. Chuck played his role but was always scanning the crowd for possible threats. He kept going over their actions wondering how the Ring identified them as agents.

Their cab stopped at a traffic light and a motorcycle pulled up beside them. Chuck looked over at the girl riding behind her 'boyfriend' and suddenly went rigid. It was the girl from last night – the one who'd blown the ambush when an errant shot took out the other shooter.

"Jess, get down!" He pushed Jess onto the floor and pulled his pistol from beneath his tropical shirt but it was too late. The girl had a small machine pistol and began firing but the driver of this cab was smarter and drove through the light leaving the ambushers stuck in traffic.

Chuck tapped the driver on the shoulder, pushed a wad of bills into his hand and said, "American consulate!" He pulled a shaken Jessica back up into his arms and kept looking over her shoulder to see if they were being followed. She was shaking like a leaf and crying into his shoulder.

"Shh, babe. It's okay. They're not following us. We're going to the consulate and hole up until we can get an escort to the airport. We'll be safe there. C'mon, Jess, you can't let the CIA clowns see you like this." He tried to inject a little humor into the situation but it failed. She just clung to him like a leech.

Chuck had no problems passing through the guard post this time. The substation chief was waiting for him with an armed escort and the pair of NSA agents were whisked inside the consulate building and taken to a secure conference room for debriefing. Jessica was still shaken and her hand never left his, even when he introduced her to the CIA agent in charge.

"We've had a rough two days, believe me, and she hasn't slept well, if at all," he said to the agent. "Jess, why don't you find a couch or something and lie down for a bit while I brief the colonel and make arrangements for someone to pick up our luggage from the hotel?"

She reluctantly followed a guard to a guest room leaving Chuck and the CIA agent alone.

"So, Agent Miller, you've been busy ducking bullets I hear." She grinned and then turned on a monitor and entered a few commands. The screen flashed showing the face of the dead shooter from the past evening and some caption he couldn't read.

"This is a some-time operative for the Indonesian Intelligence Service. She doesn't normally do 'wet work' but I suppose you're considered a 'high value' target in some circles. Colonel Casey has been burning up the Telex since we reported the incident. We're laying on a charter for you and your partner to take you to Manila where an embassy team will meet your plane."

"Good. Any chance of getting a conference with my boss? It's late there, or very early, and I suppose we should check in."

"The colonel will be waiting. Apparently some things have changed in the game and we're all on yellow status. I'll give you some privacy, Agent Miller. Let me know if there's anything we can do for you and your partner."

* * *

><p>Casey was awake but surly which was not unusual. He hated the staff position he occupied but knew he was getting a little too old to be running the roads like Bartowski and his crew but that didn't stop him from being jealous.<p>

"Morning, John. Greetings from sunny Bali where the sun shines, the people smile and pretty girls on motorbikes try and kill you."

"Very funny. Your team is safe. We picked up Foster and his partner and they're on their way here, worried but unharmed. How's the 'amazing Jessica Simpson' doing, Chuck?"

"I think she's asleep in quarters. Being ambushed twice in 12 hours and being shoved to the floorboards of a nasty moped cab has gotten to her. I'm going to let her sleep until right before we leave. I'll sleep on the plane so she can't nag at me."

Casey squinted as he looked over his old partner, looking for signs of anything unusual but just saw what he expected – a tired Chuck with worry lines in his face that weren't there the last time they'd seen each other.

"Sounds like a plan. I'll see you in 3 days back here at the hen house. Beckman's going to want a debrief so get your thoughts in order. You'll be heading out again shortly. We got a lead on who ordered the assassination attempts. Give you a hint – chocolate and yodelers."

"Going to whack a guy on his own turf? Good. That'll rattle their cages. We'll be ready. I'll worry about details once we have the intel. See ya, Casey. Try and get some sleep. You look like shit."

Chuck loved zinging Casey. There were so many opportunities and he almost felt guilty – almost.

* * *

><p>As Chuck walked back to the quarters they'd been assigned – a small bungalow on the walled Consulate grounds surrounded by gardens – he and Sara had a heart-to-heart about their situation.<p>

_'Chuck, Jessica is about at the end of her emotional rope. You'll need to be all touchy-feely with her. She's not as experienced and she's going to be emotionally charged. Do what you know you should do and I'll – I'll go do some more deep surveys. I really need an update, Chuck. And maybe some new shoes_?'

'Not an option, sweetheart. Get it through your thick skull that I'm not…'

'_It's your skull, oh most stubborn host. Neener-neener.'_

'Go…go do something while I think about options. And yeah, I think an update is needed, too. And maybe a volume control or on-off switch to shut you up and give me some peace of mind.'

The banter went back and forth until SARA dropped her bombshell.

_'It is not cheating, Chuck. Carina is dead and beyond caring and Walker is obviously unavailable – '_

'I'm 'enery the eighth I am, 'enery the eighth I am, I am…'

_'Okay, okay…now I will have that damned song stuck in a loop until I can do some rearranging. Your mean streak is showing and I can always just put you to sleep and do what needs to be done!_'

'Um, I never asked about your sexual orientation, SARA…are you a les – '

'_I…I don't know. I've never given it any thought. Why? Does it make a difference to you, Chuck?'_

He wasn't sure what to say so he did what Casey always told him to do in such cases – say nothing at all.

_'You do know that while I can't read your mind I can generally figure out what's going on, don't you?_'

'Um, no, it wouldn't make a difference, uh, not really.'

_'Your answer was so damned ambiguous as to be worthy of a laugh, Chuck. Go calm our partner down. I've got some maintenance to do in our hypothalamus. I detected some endocrine secretions that shouldn't be there.'_

He knocked on the door of their quarters in case Jess was changing or wanted to double-check who was at the door but it opened abruptly and a hand darted out and snatched him inside, the door slamming closed behind him.

* * *

><p>Life is all about compromises, meeting halfway, giving up something to get something else. For him, compromise has always been giving up what he wanted so the other person could get all of what they wanted and the thing in his head, the Intersect not SARA, had reinforced that paradigm but now that paradigm was going to shift radically in his favor.<p>

"Mmm, Chuck, gotta use the facilities…" Jessica levered herself up off his chest, gave him a quick closed-lip peck on the lips and shambled into the bathroom. She didn't close the door figuring that after all they'd done with and to each other the previous evening and night and earlier this morning made modesty rather superfluous.

_'So, Chuck, that wasn't so bad, was it? You needed it, she needed it and I…'_

'You what…?'

There was a rattling in the back of his mind that sounded suspiciously like a giggle.

'_I enjoyed it immensely. It was different from Carina…less talk and more action.'_

This time he definitely heard a feminine giggle and he blushed because what she said was true. Making love with Carina was a total experience whereas sex with Jessica was just…sex, nothing more. He wished she could understand and appreciate the difference.

And then, as if she could read his mind, he heard _'You never cheated on Carina, Chuck. She's dead and we're alive. There's nothing to feel guilty about. And I think I understand the difference. You shared with Carina, you played Jessica, although she probably wouldn't care if she knew. No emotional entanglements, just biology.'_

'I miss the emotional connection with someone, SARA. It's just not the same without the love…'

* * *

><p>They overnighted in Manila and then flew to Hawaii, changed planes to a military flight and flew nonstop to Washington. Things were heating up and Casey wanted the team to map out a plan of attack and then whack the Swiss Ring Elder as soon as possible. The CIA reported two more agents down.<p> 


End file.
